


Instinct and Empathy

by Fenris30



Category: King of Fighters
Genre: Biting, Blood, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fights, French Kissing, Graphic Description, Kissing, Licking, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:45:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9233705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenris30/pseuds/Fenris30
Summary: With the 14th tournament concluded, things are only starting to pick up. With souls being fired everywhere, Those from the Past still at large and still trying to target people, and multidimensional rifts going haywire, things seem like they're only going to get weirder than ever in South Town.Iori Yagami remains the man he always was; violent, unhinged, barely able to contain his rage...yet somehow having a better control of his deadly Blood Riot than ever before, even if it's not perfect. He ends up running into one of the few people whom he would treat with respect, and even a modicum of kindness; Athena Asamiya, whom a few years back ended up spiritually almost entwined with him after a chance fight with Kyo went awry.Iori is not one for company...but feels an undeniable...something. Athena has been wanting him to set aside his hatred before it destroys him. Time will tell...





	1. Chapter 1

Iori looked out the window, leaning back in the chair and setting his leg up on the small table which held an ashtray. Night had fallen, and it was clear; the moon was out as well, giving just enough light to see by. This was good; it would help him for tonight.

A cigarette dangled from his mouth as he fiddled with the tuning on his bass; one of the few things besides bloodshed and cigarettes that he generally ended up doing on his spare time. He wiped his brow, the heat rather stifling. He had an air conditioner in his place, though he rarely used it. He wore his trousers-leather, usually, which may not have been the best thing in the summer but he didn't really give a shit-his collar, and that was it. The purple tank top he wore today was flung onto the bed, a few pairs of boots and shoes scattered by the door. His less casual wear he actually kept hung up, along with his wine-colored leather longcoat, which he wore in cooler weather.

He had a bed with a thin sheet, a ragged couch, and a few other odds and ends. The apartment was little more than a warehouse room . There were exposed pipes, only a couple of throw rugs, and little to no decoration to speak of; except for a few old posters of when his old band played scattered about from what seemed to be years back. The refrigerator was sparsely populated by odds and ends; mostly, if he had to eat, he just went out. The coffee maker and the wine bottles were permanent fixtures on his counter. He did have a stereo, and this was a more classic setup; Iori preferred having vinyl or Cds-the latter of which could be considered dated-rather than newer things.

The city wasn't exactly bustling at this time of night, though there were some noises about. Iori lived about four stories up, so he was out of the way enough, but it let him watch on the odd chance he wanted to.

His eyes trailed to the walls; red brick and with many apparent claw marks in them, along with cracks, usually caused by Iori in a rage. He trained in his excessively brutal style-that of his ancient family, which focused on literally tearing opponents limb from limb and rending their flesh-by crushing rock and stone with his bare hands. Iori was built lean, tall, fairly broad shouldered and very well muscled, his arms and legs with incredible reach; however his build still belied the inhuman strength it held, thanks to his family bloodline. The curse only increased this to ridiculous levels. He could fling massive people with no effort, crush bones, or dismember an opponent with no weapon in the blink of an eye, and he had done so many, many times. He often looked like he had walked out of a slaughterhouse by the time he was finished, and that was when he _wasn't_ in his rage.

His legs were sometimes joined at the knees with a rather long, leather belt. He did this on purpose; besides his fashion, it helped him train his footwork and balance. It did not hinder his crushing kicks at all; he could perform better leaps and high kicks than most fighters could even without the handicap. On top of it, with a quick flick of his legs, he could use it to garrote or decapitate enemies while his hands were full ripping others to shreds. He could even trip an enemy with it, grounding them for him to rend them limb from limb or simply cave in their forehead with his heel if he was feeling mildly merciful and wanted to kill them quickly.

He trained fairly often. He liked to keep his abilities sharp for when he could finally destroy Kyo. He had beaten the other man before...but he didn't count it because the fight was interrupted. He even recently forwent a fight to do something more important. He hated to do it, but he hated Orochi just as much, if not more; and despite his blood-vendetta, he was capable of making an uneasy peace long enough to deal with the malevolent being when necessary. A short-lived uneasy peace, but one nonetheless. There were times where he wondered why he still hated the man. He supposed it was in his blood.

He almost stopped _trying_ to understand it.

He snorted, wondering why his mind kept getting away from him with his thoughts of violence. He didn't necessarily seek it out. Sometimes he didn't even _want_ to fight. Sometimes he just wanted to play his music and sleep, or read, or even practice his martial art for leisure.

But it-the malice-was always there, burning. Iori was a fairly intelligent man-not a genius by any means, but fairly smart-however often he would seemingly almost devolve into his sheer instinct, as if he was ran by his id far more often than not and the other parts of him could barely keep it in check.

When asked if he liked what he did...he said he didn't know. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. He had long stopped questioning the mess that was the inside of his head. He just knew that while he did not always want things to turn ugly, and those times he would threaten, spit, snarl and roar to make it not happen, it didn't always go that way. More often than not, it didn't go that way.

And then he would be soaked in blood, his hands ripping into their flesh.

However, tonight was just happened to be one of those nights that he was ready for some of the said violence, after the discovery was made. He would give them a chance, as he would.

He tipped the glass of wine that was on the side, seeing how it was almost empty. He had decided on a couple of glasses of red wine tonight, to soothe his clouded brain. He did not drink all the time, but now and again he got the urge. He proceeded to drink it off and set the glass back on the windowsill.

His long fingers caressed the strings of his bass, one of the few things he was actually somewhat gentle in touching. Many bassists used a pick or taped their fingers if they went without one, but his hands were so strengthened from thrusting them in stone it let him effortlessly glide over the strings. A deep rumbling came from the bass amplifier, though it was pleasant; Iori had played for years, and several genres-rock, jazz-his last band had been a jazz band-and even metal, all genres he enjoyed listening to. He was quite capable of making the instrument sing.

He owned three electric bass guitars; the traditional four-string he played now, a five string he used in his heavier endeavors, and a four string fretless bass which he liked for his jazz. His small practice area by the window was littered with an extra amp, old strings, and some effects pedals.

He puffed at the cigarette in his lips as he played. It gave him something else to focus on other than the constant burning in his brain that demanded bloodshed. Some would say Iori Yagami had nothing in the way of willpower, but truth be told, he had an absolute _godlike_ amount of it.

He remembered Benimaru laughing at this prospect one day. How could someone whose two moods ran between 'surly asshole' and 'murderous rampage' have willpower?

It was his blood-rival of all people who answered him, since the two would occasionally mention the other with respect. _Very_ occasionally.

“He's always enraged.“

It took all of said willpower at times to keep himself in check. His family treasure arguably did some of that; sure, it cursed him to an even worse state, though without it, he was practically pure, seething id; so much so that the competitors around him were made uneasy by the aura of rage and bloodlust he exuded. Even after he got it back, something felt different.

He carried his curse, though. It almost felt like his duty. Ever since the clans exploded in war six hundred and sixty years ago, the other side of him-the Orochi side, whatever it was-threatened to take him over at any time, he felt. So many generations of mothers dying in childbirth and people dying young.

It was why he withdrew most of the time. But whenever he got near combat, he couldn't help himself. That went triple for his Kyo was in the vicinity, unless Orochi happened to be the other choice.

Ending the tune he was playing-it wasn't anything particular, just some practice-he debated another glass of wine before deciding to just head out. He wasn't sure where he would go, but somewhere.

Somewhere before he would go hunt down a few people.

He carefully placed the bass guitar on its stand, turning the amp off and unplugging it. He stood, setting the wine glass aside and throwing on the tank top he wore earlier; it was hot enough that he would not need much else. Shoving on a pair of boots, he made sure he had anything else he needed and headed out.

He might be a bit busy tonight, if that rumor he had heard about was true...

–

They were here.

The rumor panned out.

Iori knew that they-Those from the Past, that was-had attempted to send more assassins after him. Well, to be frank, to many people in the tournament. Including Kyo, which he took a bit of offense to, as Kyo was _his_ to kill, not theirs, and he thought they knew that already. He was sure Kyo probably burned them to ash already, unless his moronic idealism got to him again and he only knocked them out, which he would do from time to time.

After things had gone sideways for them following Ash's betrayal, they had crawled into hiding. They worked from the shadows mostly, even still. Several had been arrested, he heard, after trying to assassinate certain targets and getting beaten up for their trouble.

Iori wasn't one to leave anyone alive to be arrested, unlike most of the other participants.

He snorted at their idea of 'justice' and pulled a cigarette from his pants pocket. He lit it, blowing a stream of smoke out as he waited.

He _hoped_ they would come out tonight.

He probably could have just stayed home, but he figured they would just come after him at some point and he'd have to kill them anyway. Cutting out the middleman seemed like the ideal option.

Plus, he generally just hated anything to do with that group. He wished he could kill the lot of them, but they hid like cowards, sending cannon fodder to do their bidding for some reason. Perhaps he thought that a large enough group could take some of their fighters off guard. He had no idea, nor did he particularly care why they were stupid. After the last tournament, things had gone particularly haywire, and all he heard was something about rifts opening and then it started to make his head hurt, which just pissed him off again.

Scouting out the large, run-down building-fairly decent for conducting clandestine operations he supposed, he noticed some alleyways surrounding it.

He would lure them out to the back alley. It would be easier to clean up afterward.

Iori made his way around back and stood by the wall, smoking another cigarette. He looked up at the night sky, glad the alleyway had a few buzzing lights to illuminate things, along with the half-moon that hovered overhead, almost empowering him. It didn't really, but he always had his ties with it.

A few rats scurried around, as did cockroaches. This area of South Town was very much an abandoned slum. He wasn't sure why they wanted this place...he almost suspected there was some sort of mystical line or something around it, given that they tended to seek out areas that offered those.

A skittering sound on the ground got his attention; a particularly large roach got too close to him. Iori snorted, slamming his boot down on it with a _crunch,_ the cigarette not leaving his lips. Moving his foot back, he lifted his hand to throw a small ball of purple fire to the ground to burn the squashed insect to ash.

He didn't know if the sudden flash of the flames got their attention, but he heard them start to move around inside after that. He was hoping he wouldn't have to wait much longer.

Indeed, he saw several men-dressed in varying array of clothing-heard out quickly, their eyes widening.

“Yagami,” one spit.

Iori laughed, looking over at a few of the other men...who did not look as confident. In fact, they looked like they didn't particularly want to be here, but were nonetheless sent out to do their leaders' bidding. He actually wondered if any of them had been successful in targeting anyone. He doubted it. There were roughly nine of them. He also wondered if they meant to target him specifically, and were expecting one of the less...murderous targets.

Oh, he imagined they were somewhat skilled. Those from the Past were not _completely_ stupid.

He did not move from his spot as they started to surround him. Three stepped forward.

“Even better,” one of the more brave ones said. Clearly they had been sent after someone else, and this would explain how some of them looked like they would have been happier taking on whatever quarry had been originally on their list. Iori knew that he and Kyo would likely be two of the more 'prized' targets for the group, as taking them out of any potential tournaments would make their run much easier.

His back was still against the wall, and most people would be worried if they were in this position with three men in front of him. Unarmed, unarmored...but he simply laughed maniacally.

He didn't even say a word. Leaping up with a snarl on his lips, he went over the head of the man in front of him easily; even from standing, his legs were so strong that they could take him right up into the air several feet. As he flew over the man's head, before anyone could react, he snapped his right leg out behind him with a force that could break stone; indeed, it smashed the wall in...and just happened to catch the first man's head in between his boot and the wall in the process.

He could catch people out with this move _so_ easily it was almost hilarious to him. It was like going over someone's head made them forget where he were coming from. Usually he would just end up snapping their neck if they were common rabble and not one of the tougher fighters that he fought, like Kyo.

This time it was a _bit_ messier.

An abhorrent wet _crunching_ sound echoed through the alley as the man's head was pulverized against the wall in a terrific spray of blood; his body slumped and slid slowly down the wall, bits of bone and brain now littering the ground beneath him where they had dropped with a _splat._  

On the bright side, he died quickly.

He landed, his hands forming into the telltale claws of his family's destructive art, daring the rest of them to continue. He gave them a chance; he thought, perhaps, after seeing one of them get their head smashed to bits as if it were an eggshell that they would not want to deal with him.

They thought by running at him at once they could overtake him.

Iori laughed again.

Leaping forward, he brought his right arm around in a vicious swipe, catching one of the men on the side of the neck and tearing; in one blow he had torn out the man's jugular and part of his throat in a massive red rain.

He fell to the ground, his eyes wide as he choked to death on his own blood.

Iori continued to leap at, rend and tear at his opponents, a hit or two getting in, but he barely felt it. He was not letting himself completely go-that would be pure madness against flies such as these-but he fought with a near base level of bloodthirst that terrified them.

Grappling one by the head, he ripped and tore, gouging and rending until he dropped the bleeding and mangled corpse to the ground. He kicked out at them as well; one well-placed jumping kick to one's mouth shattered his jaw and sent his head snapping back; if the force of his inhuman strength hadn't broken his neck, the fact that his throat was torn out soon after did. Yet another actually got a fair blow on his arm with a straight ninja sword he had concealed...only for Iori to turn, the look in his eyes pure murder; the man froze in fear as he was ripped stem to sternum-through clothing, muscle, and bone-by a single swipe of his claw-like hand.

It was cold butchery, Iori's blood curdling screams cutting them to the bone before his hands did so in a literal fashion...and it was over in moments.

He brought both of his fists down on one's head, smashing him into the pavement. He kicked the top of his head in quickly before flicking his hand out at the last one who had collapsed to his knees in front of him. He ripped a gaping red hole in his neck so large his head came halfway off of his body.

If these were the best assassins Those from the Past could send, they must be in dire straits indeed, he thought with contempt...what little he _could_ think.

If anyone had walked into the alleyway then, they would have gotten a rather horrendous surprise.

After making sure they were all dead-not that this was difficult given their mutilated conditions-he stood back, gathering power. The purple flames wreathed his hands as he focused, the trash in the alley whipping around as his powerful aura kicked in.

With a yell, he torched the remains to ash.

He laughed, still noticing some bloodstains on the walls-where he killed the first man, and some other places, but there wasn't much that could be done. He wasn't particularly someone who cared about cleanliness, but partially he figured there was no point in leaving eviscerated corpses behind.

The other half of him just enjoyed burning his enemies.

He turned, lighting another cigarette as he walked away.

–

Iori had spent a bit of time after the massacre on top of a building nearby, smoking. He wondered how many other places they had hit. He now wandered around, trying to keep himself somewhat low key, mostly keeping to the alleys.

Using his flames, he had burned away some of the gore from his arms, though he would not want to go into any public areas at the moment given his clothing, face, and chest were still spattered. He suspected they may have gone after the Pao Pao, or perhaps some of the other people around. He didn't particularly feel like talking to anyone, but he _was_ curious, so he decided to investigate a bit. It sort of felt like a multi-stage hit; Those from the Past had been particularly angry after their rather thorough defeat by that little pissant.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a few people chatting. He could have sworn a few of the usual South Town locals had started to walk off, though he didn't bother following as he had nothing to say; only staying close enough to overhear things.

He had heard there was another attack across town. He thought perhaps to investigate that as well, just in case. It had apparently been at a dojo or something. Something about the old drunken master's, or one of his places, as he was spotted as several.

At these words, his eyes narrowed. There was only one old drunken master he knew of. He normally didn't teach out of South Town, though he supposed he and his students may have came for tournament purposes, to investigate the targeted assassinations, or for some other reason. He didn't know.

Iori found himself lighting a cigarette, walking quickly around the side streets to reach the apparent area he had heard about.

–

There were several fighters who were seemingly blasted away; they did not seem dead, but they were certainly knocked out. A couple up in trees and over cars told him that the force of the blast was probably _quite_ extreme. There were roughly six or seven of them. It almost seemed like a single blast knocked them _all_ out, which spoke of amazing spiritual energy. 

As he got closer, he spotted two more figures; a girl and a man.

The girl's figure was slumped by a wall; she did not appear to be moving, though she did not look dead from back here. There had been an explosion of power, and an assassin lay on the ground a good twenty feet away; moving, breathing, but down; probably in shock from the concussive blast that apparently happened. There was likely more than one.

The girl's purple hair was unmistakable. His eyes widened for a second as his heart began to race in his chest.

_Athena._

The incident happened a few years ago; one that would continue to affect him to this day. He had gone mad and attempted to kill Kyo...as per usual, though she intercepted the attack with one of her powerful psychic shields.

Something had happened. As their powers clashed, they had ended up somehow...entwined spiritually. He had felt an overwhelming...sadness come from her, likely which came from what she had seen. He felt vulnerable for the first time since his childhood, and for a moment-just a split moment-he was worried he had hurt her. She had broken down in tears; he didn't remember much else but simply quietly walking away...from _Kyo_ , of all people.

He had him beaten, yet he walked away.

They had met from time to time after that. He was usually curt with her, sometimes rude, though never menacing. He never wanted to be. Whenever he was around her, he would feel...different. He found her silly idealism rather stupid, and had a feeling she would not be able to save the world like she wanted, but he never wanted to see harm come to her after that. It had actually been a few years since that happened-she was at least twenty one or so now,-but every time he was in her vicinity, the feeling would come back.

Whatever had happened, it had been permanent.

She kept trying to convince him to leave his hatred behind, but he would hear none of it. Yet, they would occasionally exchange a few words when they met up, depending if his mood were halfway on what counted as sociable for him.

He quickly looked over at her; she was fine, though it seemed she took a bit of damage from...something. By the look of the debris, she had fired off one of her powerful psychic blasts to knock the man out or at least silly; he knew she didn't kill.

Looking at the would be assassin, he walked over and kicked him in the face with contempt; he groaned at the sudden blow, showing he was waking up.

He followed with another...and another.

By the time he was finished raining kicks down on the man, there was a mass of gore on the ground in front of him where his head and neck used to be. He probably could have simply reached down and torn out his throat, but he had sort of lost track of himself after the first few hits; truth be told, he barely even remembered it even though he just did it moments ago. He wondered if his brain was muddled by things....his Orochi blood waking up, he wasn't even sure.

Thanks to that said seemingly permanent connection they had, he could feel her pain, and he was _not_ enjoying it. It could only happen in a close vicinity. It seemingly had to be true pain, as well; safe tournament fights did not seem to kick this in.

He looked over, realizing that she was very much unconscious, and he did not feel like dealing with the annoying kid, the silly old man, or anyone else for that matter. He didn't even know where this apparent dojo was, to be sure, or even where they stayed in South Town, and he wasn't about to go anywhere to ask. Most of the people knew of his brutal habits, but he didn't particularly feel like hearing their idealistic bullshit right now on how killing was wrong.

This left one choice.

He picked her up and started to head toward his apartment. He wasn't particularly keen on visitors-in fact, he sort of ended up killing the last ones who were there, given the last ones had been Mature and Vice, and everyone knew what had happened after _that_ tournament, though no one spoke of it. Certainly not in his vicinity.

He would make a short exception here, at least until she woke up.

He would have loved for his heart to stop pounding, but he supposed ever since that incident it was inevitable. He didn't like the feeling because it made him stressed, and when he got stressed, especially with the potential of _other_ powers awakening, he didn't know what would happen. His willpower could sometimes only go so far, even though these days he had some measure of actual control over his Riot...even able to bring it out in combat for an extra burst of even more insane strength and speed that he was normally capable of-but it was not _total_ control, and his obliterating of the man's head and even part of his torso a few moments ago-that he could barely remember-was a reminder.

_We sealed him. Again._

_Don't tell me there are more of them back..._

He shook his head, knowing that if anyone else was back, he would rend them and seal them again, just like that. He'd even lend another hand to Chizuru and... _him_ if necessary.

He walked silently, holding her in both arms, her head falling on his shoulder. He made no effort to move it.

–

He arrived quicker than he thought.

He was hungry, as he usually was after a fight. He supposed he would drop her off there and when she woke, she would be free to leave when she wanted to. Given the condition of his apartment of being as dank as it was, he guessed it would not take her long to disappear.

Holding her easily in one arm, he shoved his door open and went over to his bed. He quickly threw a sheet on the bed-sometimes he would sleep on the mattress, it was no matter to him. Laying her gently on it, he looked around, deciding to click on the air conditioner. While he could handle the stifling humidity of the place, he wasn't sure if she was well or not. He closed the window to help hasten the cooling.

He kicked his bloodied boots off into the corner, snorting that he would have to polish them yet again; he in fact threw off any clothing he had worn that night and tossed them there as well.

After some thought, he jumped into the shower for a few moments; his hair and other parts of his body were spattered with blood, and he figured anyplace he would go to eat may take some alarm to this. Iori didn't frankly care if he scared anyone, but he also didn't want to get anyone too interesting in wanting to pry into anything.

As the hot water ran down his body, he watched it mix with some of the blood and go down the drain. He had done this more times than he could count. His fairly long hair soon hung down in his face, and eventually the water on his body ran clean.

While he was here, he examined his body; he had some cuts and a few bruises, but nothing that wouldn't heal quickly on him.

He let the hot water flow into his hand for a few moments before reaching over to turn it off. He looked at himself in his mirror; he had to replace it again after shattering it in yet another rage. He had to do this at least once every other month. Pushing back his hair, he checked out his eyes; light brown, as always. No sign of the red rage of Orochi, though he still felt like it had started to take him over again when he turned that last man into pulp. 

He sighed, pushed back his wet hair, and walked out.

After drying off somewhat, he threw on a clean set of trousers and proceeded to slide another cigarette out of his pack, light it, and lean by the wall to look out the window.

He turned toward Athena for a few moments as she slept peacefully. Her breathing looked steady; she was seemingly in no danger. Perhaps that assassin had some ki of his own that knocked her out? He knew Those from the Past had mystical abilities. He just happened to cross some of the rabble who didn't. He imagined they would sent more ki-loaded opponents vs. the Psychic Soldiers, as they were nicknamed that for a reason. He knew how skilled she was from the years of seeing her at the tournaments, but energy blasts going haywire could overtake even the strongest minds.

She started to stir as he was getting done his smoke, looking distraught for a moment.

Iori felt a burning when she did this. It was similar to the feeling when they had...joined that first time. He grit his teeth, crushing out his smoke as the strange, rather uncomfortable feeling passed. He looked over at her, panting.

_What do you want..._

Only silence answered him.

_It felt like she was inside of me again, just like that time a few years ago._

He felt something again. Sorrow?

Iori growled, thrusting his hand into the wall, clawing at it. He set his forehead against it, gritting his teeth for awhile before he looked over at her.

He wasn't angry.

He didn't know _what_ he was.

Hurrying to get dressed, he decided to get something to eat; perhaps a few drinks. Anything to get him out of here.

He quickly left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Iori arrived back at his apartment fairly late.

He had just set into a very large and rare steak for dinner, along with half a bottle of wine. He was quite good at holding his alcohol-he wondered if his blood burned it away or something, he had no idea-so he was just feeling mildly buzzed at the moment. The steak was as rare as he liked it-he was usually irritated if a place didn't understand 'rare' and served him something actually cooked instead.

Then again, people breathing wrong around Iori could irritate him, so it was par for the course.

A cigarette dangling from his lips, he shoved inside, his mind only wanting to sit down with his bass and perhaps another glass of wine for awhile.

He was greeted with the sight of Athena standing there, examining some of the old posters on the wall. He stopped, shutting the door behind him.

She stepped back a few steps, swallowing hard. “Iori...” she looked over. “These posters. The clothes hanging up. I knew it was you. Why...you brought me here?” She looked a little groggy and confused still, though seemed fine.

He wandered over to the window to glance out. “Why are you still here?” He took a deep drag of the smoke. He wasn't enjoying how his heart had started pounding again.

“I...wanted to see what happened. I remember, I had set a big blast loose. Several. Kensou had chased down some others a distance away, and I had managed to put most of the rest out...but one had very powerful ki. I had overtaxed.”

“So you knocked yourself out.”

She chuckled, blushing slightly. “Almost. I probably shouldn't have met his blast that heavily.”

He heard that people who use that sort of energy can end up overdoing it and knocking themselves out. Kensou had to miss a tournament he faintly recalled in one of his chats with Athena, for the sole purpose of honing some skill he had developed. He was gone for a whole year. It was a bit alien to him as his flames were basically instinct powered by his clan jewel, but he had no idea how psychic energy worked.

“Maybe learn how to control your powers better,” he grumbled, pulling out an ashtray after throwing his shoes off. He knew he had just heaved about seventeen boulders at someone's glass house with that line.

“Way to treat a guest,” she said with a slight scowl which softened immediately; Athena was generally amazingly good natured. “I was going to thank you.”

Iori snorted. “You did, then.”

Athena walked over to him, her arms folded. He looked down at her before he stripped off his shirt to walk over to the window again. The air conditioner felt cool against his chest.

“I'll thank you anyway.”

'Tch', he replied, looking down for a moment before he glanced at her.

“I wouldn't have left you there.”

She smiled softly; for him, this was an acknowledgment. “Why didn't you take me to the dojo?”

“I didn't know where you were staying here.”

“And the enemy?”

“I don't know about most of them, I had left them. The one across from you I killed.”

“...oh,” she said, her voice soft. “Why?”

He shrugged, continuing to smoke. He sort of wanted more wine at this point as he wasn't used to actually answering so many questions.

“You didn't lose control again, did you?”

He looked sharply at her. “Yeah? And if I did?” His tone grew more annoyed.

“Please...” she said. She did not look afraid, though. She wasn't.

She was more sad.

That day where they had...crossed, perhaps entwined spiritually, for lack of a better term, had been unforgettable. Ever since then, she had wanted to see him cast off his intense hatred and rage...but he would not. It seemed to feed him. When he had lost his jewel, he had been so full of sheer malice it _almost_ frightened her. She knew some of the other fighters had been downright uncomfortable around him, as it almost felt like he would snap and tear someone apart at a moment's notice.

Between the two of them, it was the usual over the years. They would exchange some words, and he would end up going off in a dark mood, not knowing what was going on. But she never, ever, felt malice in _her_ direction. Even after four or so years had passed, and even when he was at his most terrifying.

To this day she wondered about that crying child she tried to comfort. She dare not ask him, though. She thought he would push her away for good and she would never be able to try to figure out what had happened. Athena was not one to give up on helping someone. She didn't give up on a fan who counted on her some years back, and she wouldn't give up here, even though she knew she had to approach this much, _much_ more carefully.

Iori looked closely at something outside and suddenly turned to head into his kitchen area....or what counted for it. It was a stovetop, a microwave, a fridge, and some other odds and ends in a part of the room with a sink. She would probably go nuts living someplace like this, but it didn't seem to bother him. She wondered if he even knew what comfort _was._

He came away with a bowl filled with something-it seemed to be milk-and a can of...tuna?

She blinked as he walked by and set them on the windowsill. A small gray striped cat soon appeared-a skinny little thing-and nosed up to Iori's outstretched hand for a moment as he scratched it behind the ears; for such a small cat, it had a loud purr and seemed to enjoy it. It head over toward the food after a few moments.

He sat by the window in his ragged leather chair, watching the animal.

Athena could not have been more surprised if Kensou and Chin had burst into the room riding mammoths.

She walked over to watch.

“...Is it yours?” It was a tiny little thing. Fully grown, but slim.

He shook his head. “She just comes around. Was friendly. Probably abandoned. Guess she just eats whatever scraps people put out.”

Holding out her hand, the little cat rubbed her head into it, purring, before going back to her food.

Iori looked over at Athena, a tiny smile creeping onto the corner of his lips; something _else_ that rarely seemed to happen. “She usually runs away from other people. I've watched her from up here.”

“Does she have a name?”

He shook his head. “Not mine to name.” He reached a large hand out, letting the little cat walk over to it after she took a break from eating. She crouched on the sill, rubbing against his fingers and purring. Iori looked fairly calm, much more than he usually did.

“She likes you.” Athena walked over and crouched next to the low sill, standing fairly close to the two of them. She felt Iori tense, though he did not move his hand. After a time, the little cat went back to eating, finishing up what he had brought. Nudging against his hand again, she turned to leave.

Iori sat back, lighting another cigarette.

“I didn't think you had it in you.”

He just shrugged. “She doesn't bother me.” Iori found he sort of liked the little cat's company. Given that he shut himself off from people most of the time, he welcomed it.

Athena went back over to look at the posters; they were old, some were faded and dog-eared, though they were kept in otherwise decent condition for the most part; one seemed to have been slashed by a set of claws...along with the wall behind it.

She had a feeling what happened there.

Having been a musician herself, she liked to look at where he had gone. He had played quite a few gigs in his time, though he hadn't in awhile, she knew. After he started getting worse, he had started to shut himself in more.

She heard him get up and watched him go over to start getting coffee going. He looked at her questioningly.

“Having some?”

She nodded, a little surprised.

Iori figured he could at least _attempt_ to be hospitable for once. Athena was one of the few people in the general vicinity that he could stand the company of for more than a few minutes if it wasn't for business purposes. While he wanted to end Kyo-or, well, apparently-his girlfriend was tolerable, and he had even rescued her once, though he wouldn't consider her someone he'd particularly want to have long conversations with. Chizuru was generally okay for short periods of time if Orochi was involved, but her lectures got a bit annoying otherwise.

Everyone else either grated on him at absolute best, or at worst-in the tournament-he ended up wanting to either severely beat or occasionally kill them, for some of the most insufferable ones. Which was probably not the healthiest mindset, but he had long gotten used to it. If they stayed out of his way, he was fine, but if he had to fight through people, that was it.

“Don't have much to eat. I usually go out.” He nodded toward a pile of random food; mostly junk food and ramen. He always kept a large slab of some sort of meat every week in the freezer, for the days he didn't feel like being sociable at _all._

“That's okay.” She noted that he practically kept more in the place for the cat than himself. “Thank you,” she added.

He didn't reply, but he nodded once. He found keeping busy kept his thoughts in check, and it almost felt like being in her vicinity for awhile was settling him somewhat; perhaps he had gotten used to her psychic power or something. He wasn't sure. Maybe it didn't affect him as much as when he saw her again.

He remembered immediately after the incident-after he had left and ran into her later-the feeling was so strong it made him angry, and he had left quickly, with a lot of yelling. And _then_ those two pains in the asses went and broke into his apartment and wouldn't leave him alone.

They _still_ came back to haunt him every so often, but ever since he had violently relieved them from their mortal coils, it was only during tournaments.

Running a hand through his thick hair, he grabbed two cups to wait until the coffee was done. He wandered back to the window, seeing if the cat was still around. She had probably head off to do whatever cats did.

Heading back over to pour the hot drink for the two of them, he handed her the cup and walked back to his chair. After a few moments he looked over at her.

“If you need to stay another day, go ahead.”

“I think I'm fine,” she said. “Besides, we're staying at a dojo that's not too far.”

He raised an eyebrow at the 'not too far' part. “Are you saying you want to come back?”

Athena was silent. She did, but she almost thought-especially seeing how he was able to at least _somewhat_ care for another being-that it was because she maybe _could_ help him, after all.

She could be stubborn, and the idealism he spoke of was true. Yes, she was idealistic and she thought she could try to help people. She did it through her music years ago, and she tried to help out the people she considered friends. While Iori could not really be considered a friend yet...she was never able to get the haunting feeling of the overwhelming sorrow and loneliness that she was hit with to the point where she broke down crying for near on half an hour.

Grief, it was, as if she had lost several of the people closest to her all at once. If it hit her that badly, she had no idea what was going on with him.

She noticed even now in his place she was less...cheerful and happy-go-lucky. As if there were a sort of cloud here that she was still connected to. She was still positive, but it was almost like there was unfinished business.

Iori had noticed this somewhat, but he said nothing.

The other competitors steered clear of him more often; after the tournament where he had lost his powers, he had beaten Kyo of all people horribly-and his power was renowned-and broke poor Shingo's body so badly that he was in the hospital for longer than most could remember. Benimaru, generally sweet, pleasant and chill Benimaru-had been _livid_ , and she remembered Kyo-who was still a bit battered himself despite healing more quickly than your ordinary person-and Goro having to talk him out of going after Iori himself.

As she was lost in her thoughts, Iori continued to look in her direction. Athena snapped back, running a hand through her extremely long hair and pushing it back somewhat.

“If...I mean...” she looked around. “We have the same enemies. Sort of,” she added quickly, given that she did not consider Kyo an enemy. She had a crush on him for a long time, though she had abandoned that after high school, given he was quite happy with Yuki.

Iori sighed. She got him there. She could be useful in dealing with them, in fact. “Just...let me know first.”

He had a feeling she would end up finding him somehow otherwise. Given that she hadn't given up on him even after a few years, the fact he bailed her out of a bad situation was now probably enough to make her wish to somehow 'thank' him for real or something, despite him saying the contrary.

There was also something-a small-tiny, even...the tiniest voice that somehow actually felt just a little bit comfortable around her these days, when she wasn't trying to psychically pry into him while she was asleep, that was. He felt strange at times, but other times he felt even mildly calm.

He wasn't sure if he simply didn't know how to handle that.

“I'll give you time.” She walked over to him. Thinking for a moment, she touched the side of his face lightly. He flinched back, withdrawing a bit...though not forcefully, and not completely. He would _not_ have let anyone else even come close to doing that these days. Some years back, sure, but not now.

“Iori,” she said. “Thank you. Try not to...destroy too much before we meet again?” She wanted to say 'destroy anything', but she knew that would be pointless.

“No promises.” He was fairly blunt. He could just tell her to never come back...but...perhaps he didn't mind talking to a person sometimes. He somewhat missed it now and again. He didn't think he wanted to spend a lot of time around her or anyone for that matter. She also had enough in the powers department to keep tabs on Those from the Past, they did indeed mostly have the same enemies, and if he had to talk to someone about things, she was the person that he felt the...calmest around, overall.

“I suppose that works,” she replied, gently taking her hand away from his face. She turned to walk out.

“Athena,” he suddenly said.

She turned. “Hmm?”

“What did you see then?” To this day, he never knew. He suddenly decided he wanted to know what exactly she saw that made her so...insistent on poking around his business.

She smiled sadly. “Someone who I wanted to help.” She didn't know how else to put it. “Someone crying.”

Iori turned, looking out the window. “Thanks.”

Athena smiled behind him, walking out.

He didn't remember crying, ever. There was a lot he didn't remember. The Riot of the Blood seemingly screwed with his memory.

Sighing, he stood, cracking his knuckles. He had a feeling he would end up finding more trouble tonight...or it would find him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The past several nights, Iori's dreams had _not_ been something he enjoyed. On the contrary; they were hellish.

His blood felt like it was boiling and his body was wracked with pain. It was like he was going through the Blood Riot, only he would wake up eventually. One time he had dug his fingers far enough into his palm to draw blood in his sleep; he woke to find it smeared all over. 

Iori was no stranger to bad dreams, but these caused him physical pain. He would end up waking in the middle of the night more often than not with the blood rushing in his ears; he would smoke a cigarette or two before trying to sleep again. More often than not, the dreams would hit again-which he would barely remember, except for the horrible feelings they gave.

He could swear that there were people trying to set him off. He could almost sense Orochi's presence, though he thought that would be impossible. He reluctantly had to admit to himself when it came to Orochi and its fanatical followers, nothing was impossible. 

He had decided to withdraw some days, not speaking to anyone. He would feed the cat that came, stroking her head as he always would until she left, though he simply mostly sat, ate whatever junk food he had and played his bass, since sleep was unable to come easily. Even drinking wine didn't seem to help; it only got him tipsy and hungry, and then he'd wake up with a headache on top of that same burning feeling he had when Orochi first attempted to wake up the evil side of him.

One thing that was of some minor comfort were cold showers; usually he opted for them as hot as he could take them, but between constantly feeling like his blood was boiling and the stagnant heat, cold tended to calm him a bit more. He would end up in there at least twice a day.

After several days of barely enough sleep, he began to get angrier, his brutal outbursts causing more damage to his walls. 

It was one night at around three in the morning-he had slept all of two hours the night before and maybe six total in the past three days-that he happened to glance at the phone on his desk...which held Athena's number.

_I don't need help._

He sat there in his chair, stripped of everything except for a pair of his favorite black jeans, simply staring at the phone.

_No._

But the blood rushing in his ears again and his quick heartbeat was telling him something else. He remembered how a couple of times-while he would get riled up at first-she somehow could help calm him...even a little.

He was getting desperate. Maybe her psychic power or whatnot could put him out for a day like it did the day she overloaded herself. He wasn't sure how it worked. Iori was not afraid, but his rage was starting to get the better of him.  

And this was not good for architecture-let alone people-in his vicinity.

Iori stared at his phone...and the time. Three am. She was probably asleep.

He grabbed the phone, shuffled through until he found her number, and after some hesitation hit 'call'...but hung up after a few rings.

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself. He moved over to the kitchen to throw on more coffee; he was thankful that he had a large amount of it, as he hadn't wanted to leave his apartment to restock anything.

He rubbed his eyes afterward and wandered off to the side of the small counter. With a sudden yell, slammed his fist into the wall again; cracking the stone easily as it landed. As he pulled his hand away, his knuckles bled. This just made him angrier, so he snarled and lashed out with a brutal kick which crushed the stone in where it landed, forming a sort of crater on the wall; the form on his kick was better, however, so he managed to not draw any blood with that one. 

His still-manic eyes glanced at the dripping blood on his fist-his own, for once-and trailed outside at the moon shining through the window. He paused to lick some of the blood that dripped off, for reasons he didn't even quite know at the moment. Bit by bit, some of the rage seemed to fall away.

Sighing, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jeans and slid another into his mouth.

–

Snapping awake, Athena had grabbed her phone. Oddly enough, she wasn't sure if it was the phone that woke her up, or the horrid feeling she had.

When she looked at the number that called, she knew something was wrong.

She had a foreboding type of feeling that had followed her the past few days. It wasn't totally tied to Iori, she knew; he had been in foul moods his entire life and they didn't follow her around, mostly only if they met up. But she had a nasty feeling that stuff was afoot when it came to other things. She supposed it had to do with the various enemies who seemed to track down certain competitors, but she wasn't sure. 

Staring at the number, she quickly stood to get dressed.

He may have hung up quickly, but she figured that it wouldn't hurt. He had called for a reason. The last time she had seen him was when they had gone to a noodle shop one night about four days ago; she had run into him in the vicinity and he agreed to go along, though he looked like he was in a worse mood than usual. In fact, he had looked rather short of sleep and did not speak much...even for him. She remembered he paid for both of their meals and left quickly. 

_If he wants to be let alone, I'll just leave. Won't hurt to check._

She carefully left the dojo where she stayed currently; Kensou's snoring was audible through two sets of walls, so she doubted anyone would hear to inquire. Not that they'd stop her, but she sort of wanted to keep this visit discreet.

The night was clear, though stagnant. Leaving the air conditioning was regrettable, but she could get to Iori's apartment fairly quickly.

Brushing her hair back, she sighed and started to walk.

–

Hearing the knock, he glanced at the time; it was around four.

Iori had been sitting by the window, practically chain-smoking, his foot on the table in front of him. A cup of coffee-which had been filled and emptied at least three times in the past hour-was sitting there next to him along with an empty bowl of ramen; he had decided to eat something to keep his strength up. The stone ashtray was practically overflowing. 

Littering the floor around the chair were the remnants of another coffee cup, which he had broken in his hand out of anger. His rage fueled strength was frightening to behold; often he didn't even realize how much force his body would even put out when he was in one of his darker moods.

Pushing away from the table-he roughly kicked aside the remnants of the cup, somehow managing to not cut himself in the process-and threw the door open. He looked down, knowing exactly who it was.

“I hung up, you know,” he grumbled, standing aside to let her in. He had even turned the air conditioner down to a colder setting about a half hour before-he knew she liked it-instinctively knowing she wouldn't let the call go. He sort of regretted calling in the first place.

“You still called,” she said, walking in and breathing a sigh of relief when the air hit her.

He wandered over to the counter and poured her a cup of coffee, shoving it unceremoniously into her hand before walking back over to the chair that he had turned to face the window. He sat over far enough on it-it was fairly wide-for her to squeeze into it as well if she so wanted.

Athena had to crack a smile at this. While he was still being rude and gruff, he was at least being _somewhat_ hospitable at the same time, which was a tiny step forward.

She took him up on the offer, sitting there next to him. He tensed-as he would-but calmed after a moment. After taking a sip of the blindingly strong brew, she turned toward him.

“Iori,” she said.

He looked over at her. His eyes held dark rings, and the whites were somewhat bloodshot. His knuckles were clearly abused from the walls; she could see several cracks and holes in the brick-some parts clawed, some punched-with some blood smeared-and a few of the larger areas she reckoned he kicked in when he had gotten tired of punching them.

“It burns,” he answered, after he realized her gaze would not leave him. “It fucking burns like it did-like it does when...” he trailed off. “They're trying to unseal that bastard again. I know it, even though we just sealed him a few months ago. I'll crush his neck like I did the first time, but...” he stopped, taking a drag of the cigarette.

“Those from the Past.”

“Most of them are still around. We both know it.”

She nodded. She knew after some of the events of the last tournament they wouldn't stay gone. 

“I can't find them, else I'd rip their throats out.”

Athena shivered. She knew Iori's threats were not empty. She simply drank the coffee, letting him vent.

He had stopped, going back to stare out of the window. After a long time of silence, he looked back over.

“Why did you call me Mr. Iori those years ago?”

She almost spit her coffee out. “You...remember that?” It was an extremely random question, especially given the topic of conversation about ten minutes before.

“You don't any more. Why did you? You're only three years younger than me.”

Athena had to laugh. “I...I don't know. I guess I was taught to be formal?”

“Hmph,” he snorted, flinging the cigarette onto the concrete floor and crushing it out. He would just sweep up later. The ashtray was full and he didn't feel like getting up to empty it. He turned his head again...and this time, the corner of his mouth held a tiny smile. “Glad you don't anymore.”

“It was sort of silly. I think I was mostly just dumbfounded. Maybe a little nervous.”

He nodded, unsurprised. While he still felt a little off around her, he felt a bit better than he did. He couldn't explain it. Maybe he could sense the heavy empathy she had for him.

She looked around at the shattered cup and his hands. “You have...how much have you slept?”

“A few hours.”

“Last night?”

“Over the past three or four days.”

Athena sighed. She wished she could help, but she wasn't sure how to go about this. She knew he was wary about her power ever since that first incident, so she'd have to approach this carefully.

“Do you want to try?” she asked.

He shrugged. “If I can without feeling like I'm going to wake up and murder people.” He uttered a dark laugh before turning toward her. “What can you do?”

She thought for a moment. “I...don't know. I don't know if my powers work that way. How do you feel now?”

“I don't know,” he grumbled. The questions were starting to agitate him. “I'll go lay down. If you can figure something out, do it.” He stood, wandering over to the bed and collapsing on it, turning onto his side.

Athena blinked, finishing her cup of coffee before walking over to sit next to him, her back against one of the pillows which sat against the wall. She placed her shoes off to the side and crossed her legs in front of her before looking over at him as he lie there.

For some reason, she wanted to curl up next to him, to slide her arms around him. She shook her head, not knowing where _that_ thought came from. The empathy she knew she had?

Or was there something more? Did she want to help him because it was the right thing to do...or were there some sort of...underlying feelings there?

_It can't be._

_Iori?_

_This Iori? Tries to kill Kyo anytime they meet unless they're fighting Orochi?_

_Iori, the forever enraged fighter with about a hundred deaths to his name?_

She thought it may have just been the way she worked; she felt for people who were in distress, and that was where the want to try to comfort him came from. But she had started to think about other things.

She made sure to chase those thoughts away...or tried to. She wasn't sure if she was successful. He turned over, putting a hand behind his head as he looked at the ceiling.

He was tense, that was for sure. At first he wanted to tell her to go sit in the chair or something, but then another part of him liked her presence there. It was confusing to him; it tore him one way, and then another...but for him, it was better than being shoved completely in the direction of 'enraged.'

Closing his eyes, he decided to try to sleep. He spared her one exhausted glance before he did so; the look in his eyes was that of a man trying to keep the strings of his very self intact.

Athena slid down, putting both of her hands behind her head as she eventually heard his breathing adjust to that of someone who was sleeping.

Sure enough, in about fifteen minutes, he was out. 

She randomly started thinking about the curse of his clan. 

_Does his entire clan really deserve to pay for something an ancestor did over six hundred years ago?_

–

Iori snapped awake, snarling.

She could feel the malice again; she felt it off and on during the rest of the morning and into the afternoon; Iori had slept for roughly eight hours, all the way to about one pm. He sat up, breathing heavily, his face in his hands. He pulled them away.

“How long was I out for?” It was the first thing he said. 

“Eight or so hours.”

He nodded, panting and looking angry. “Felt it again.”

“You...struggled a lot. I let you sleep, though.”

He blinked. “You stayed the whole time?”

She nodded. “I looked at a few of the books on your shelf.” He had a few classics lying around, as well as things like musical history which she had found interesting. 

There was also a not-insignificant collection of porn she had come across, but she only chuckled and slid that back on the shelf.

He looked a little surprised. “I...thanks,” he said, not really knowing what else to say. He grabbed the pack of cigarettes he had thrown on the table next to him and lit one. He had a slight headache. Glancing at the window, he noticed an empty tuna can and bowl there. He actually cracked a tiny smile. “She was here?”

Athena nodded. “She looked hungry.”

“Still funny how she doesn't run from you,” he said, rubbing his head and standing. The burning began to seemingly scratch around the underside of his consciousness again, almost taunting him.

 _You still listen to me,_ it seemed to say. _You will always listen to me._

He suddenly slammed his fist into the wall next to the bed, snarling, the few moments of a lighter mood having disappeared. Athena jumped, noticing the crack that appeared. His power always surprised her.

“I need to go," he said after some moments. "Need to be alone for awhile.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes, I'm sure,” he snapped, though looked a little regretful at his tone immediately afterward. He calmed down a little. “I just need to go. I think I need to drink a few tonight. They're still out there. I just want to get away from them.” He stood to try to find some of his clothes and his boots; he hadn't gone out for several days and he had forgotten where he threw them. He had apparently just tossed everything into a corner.

He glanced over at her, exhaling heavily as he adjusted his shirt; the one with the crescent moon. He didn't bother buttoning it. “Sorry.” 

She nodded; she knew that was in regards to his generally foul mood. “It's okay.”

“Look...” he said, absently checking his pockets, “Thanks. I...slept better than in awhile. Still had the nightmares but...” he trailed off. He had slept longer than he had in days. He looked around. “Stay however long you want.”

“I'll head back now. Just...if you need anything again...call. Like you did.”

Iori nodded, turning quickly. _I need to get out of here. Drink. Forget._

It was trying to get him again, he felt.

Athena watched as he slammed the door behind him without another word. She looked around at the forlorn apartment, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering. It was not from the cold.

_I don't like this feeling I have. What's happening?_

She decided to go inquire to a few people about any particular goings-on around the city. Perhaps finding out something, anything, about some of the weird stuff that had been happening with spirits and multidimensional rifts and whatever else had been twisted out of shape after the defeat of the last entity that attacked the tournament could shed some light on things.

–

It took awhile, but it eventually happened.

Iori had finally reached the point of being drunk. Wasted was too extreme a word, but his mind was finally clouded; the bartender had been a bit alarmed on how long it took him.

It _sort_ of helped...but not really. The blood was still rushing in his ears, and he felt almost like he did that night all those years ago where he turned on Orochi, his hands clenching around his neck in a death-grip. Had Orochi been an ordinary human, he would have easily torn his head off. He could actually see the fear and anger in his eyes as he dug his fingers into his neck with all of his immense strength; Orochi-who even had better leverage at first-tried to pull them apart, but it was in vain.

Iori's strength was greater than that of a divine entity. He had held him up as if he were a doll as Kyo finally delivered the hit.

He had no memory of what happened after that. All he remembered was waking up in a temple at least a week later. May have been more.

But that didn't matter now.

He had no idea why he started remembering that again. He shuffled in one of his pockets, sticking a cigarette in his mouth.

It was drizzling outside, though still hot. The bar he had been at was some no-name joint; Iori preferred those when he would go out to drink. Given they tended to be more sparsely populated, he was able to sit in a corner, drink, smoke, and do whatever else that caught his attention at the time.

He threw his shirt back on-he hadn't even worn it in the bar, but it was not one of those bars that particularly cared as long as you weren't naked.

Considering stopping by some fast food place on the way back to stave off his quickly growing appetite-no doubt caused in part by the alcohol-he began to move over to an area where he knew there were some places that he could eat. There were some people; mostly drunks, addicts, and other people who crawled around the areas. No one really lived in the dilapidated apartments in this zone. The food joints about a half mile away were generally sparsely populated as well, just how he liked it. He tended to be left alone, due to the murderous glare that he usually had on his face.

He crushed the cigarette out under the heel of his boot, looking around for a moment. Shaking his head, he moved on...but only for a few steps.

Iori suddenly grew tense; he did not like the feeling he got from the way a couple of people looked at him. One was a short, dark haired female, and the other a tall, very willowy male; he could have easily been mistaken for a woman in the loose sweater he wore...despite the heat. Soft blond hair framed his face, though his eyes were cold flints. The girl didn't particularly look like she had any sort of care about anything.

They did not look like the rest of the people here.

His left hand forming into a claw, he kept walking.

Their gaze continued to burn into him, and he felt his heart start pounding harder again...and the blood rushing into his ears even more. His head pounding, he snarled and pushed forward.

More eyes fell on him from the shadows. Were they enemies?

_Weapons. They have weapons._

He snapped his head around to glare at the two; the blonde man had gotten closer to him. He was about Iori's height, but very slim. His expression was neutral.

“You're still weak,” he whispered. He chuckled, though he did not smile.

Iori snarled. “I'll rip you in two if you don't get away.”

The man-whom Iori finally began to recognize-simply shook his head. “You could kill me, yes. I doubt me or my colleague could do anything about you. If you laid a hand on us, you could tear us to bloody pieces...like you have so many. But...” the man nodded to his partner...who simply held up her fingers in a strange arcane shape, making a few motions.

“We have a bit of a trump card there.”

The feeling Iori had was not one he had expected to feel.

It _burned_.

It burned like it did some years back when he murdered Mature and Vice, when he held Orochi at bay, when he nearly killed Kyo and Shingo, and several other times where he had murdered large numbers of people in his vicinity.

He knew he was falling to the Riot of the Blood again.

 _H...How..._ he thought, as he spat blood onto the ground in front of him. He held his hand up to his mouth, wiping it off and staring at it. He could feel the saliva in his mouth growing thick, almost like it was foaming. 

They were trying to set him off, he knew. He didn't know why.

But they had a plan.

While Iori under the Riot of the Blood had inhuman power, Those from the Past decided to attempt a gambit.

By setting him off, they know he did not bother defending himself. Sacrificing foot soldiers was nothing to them. Eventually, they figured, they would do enough damage to bring him down.

He was more resilient, yes, but they figured Iori not under Blood Riot was far too cunning. He was not an intelligent or strategic fighter, but he knew how to defend himself and could handle a fight against dangerous opponents far too well, even large numbers of them.

Outnumbering him-and bringing him down through sheer damage-was something they would attempt. He would eventually bleed out, even if he kept fighting until the end...or even if he slaughtered them all, he would likely collapse afterward.

Looking around-the blood rushing in his ears as if he were standing next to a waterfall, burning in his veins...there were many. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Weapons.

_Nn...no..._

There were a few bystanders as well. He tried to tell them to run, but the words wouldn't come out as his eyes began to turn red.

_H...How..._

_O...Orochi..._

The two seemed to be focusing on him...they had discovered a way to channel the being's power as it tried to reform itself from whatever netherworld it was in. A being who had a _particularly_ nasty attitude toward Iori and his entire clan.

Of which he was the only one of left alive, but that didn't matter.

One more burst did it.

The last thing Iori remembered was spitting out an all too familiar word.

“ _Die_...!”

The assassins for Those from the Past were basically on a suicide mission, though some of them did not look particularly willing. After taking a look at just how terrifying and feral Iori looked under the Riot of the Blood, even the braver ones were having second thoughts.

The first man took a shot, clipping Iori's arm. He barely felt it, charging; grasping his shoulders in his hands and digging his fingers in, he tore the man in two where he stood; blood, viscera, and everything else inside of him flew out.

The bloodcurdling scream that Iori emit after this was enough to send anyone that wasn't an assassin running.

Their blades and bullets tore into him, though he felt nothing. His hands tore out, catching arms, torsos, heads...anything they swiped had pieces torn out or were just torn straight off, blood getting everywhere in the vicinity.

It was enough of a horror show a couple of the men tried to call it off; they had no idea it would be _this_ bad.

They were caught. Anyone that ended up in the grip of his deadly 'claws' were torn to pieces; his kicks shattered bone like glass. His boot caught a stumbling assassin's face as he threw a straight kick; it was caved in instantly from the force.

Iori never realized how badly he was injured at this moment as several bullets and knives hit home. He grabbed a gun before a man could fire again, crushing it in his fist along with his hand. The man screamed until it was stopped short from Iori's clawed hand thrusting into his face and through his head. Iori's fevered, insane strength caused their bodies to be no more difficult for him to dismantle than a wet paper bag.

A man who fell to the ground tried to crawl through the bodies to try to escape, but he felt Iori's boot on the back of his head after a few moments. His stomach dropped, though he only had time for a muffled cry as Iori uttered a truly terrifying laugh and crushed it into the pavement, adding the man's own contribution of gore to the collection that had formed on the ground.

Luckily, any bystanders escaped...though given they were bums in various states of inebriation, they were mostly concerned with getting out of there as quickly as possible, and hoping that it was just some extremely bad hooch causing the hallucinations.

Iori's blood continued to burn in his ears; the assassins were nothing but sacks of meat to him.

He grew slower as the blood drained from his body from dozens of wounds. His shirt was soaked through, and he looked like he had bathed in gore. Most of it was not his.

They were all dead long before he stopped and snapped out of it; the last man was torn asunder by a gigantic leaping attack that he performed with both hands.

No one else had come there; this part of town was not oft visited by authorities, which tended to be thin in the lousiest parts of South Town anyway. Mostly they patrolled the better areas and ended up letting the criminal enterprises deal with each other, so long as they kept it to their seedy part of towns. They did not even know about the scene of utter butchery that had just taken place.

His eyes scanning the gore, he grew dizzy and collapsed by the wall, the pain still not registering, though his brain starting to recognize what happened.

_Is it over?_

–

Athena, in the middle of her training, suddenly grew dizzy.

_Blood. So much blood._

Her powerful psychic abilities had the tendency to pick up if there was a whole lot of negative energy close by. It was a form of psychic empathy that many people who learn to control the power learn very early on; before one can form it, one has to be able to sense it, after all.

_Screaming. So much. Some in fear...but there was another voice...a voice full of rage._

She knew only one person could end up like this.

_Oh, no..._

She stopped, looking around the dojo. She was alone at the moment.

Quickly trying to zero in on where the terrible feeling came from, she left.

–

When she came across the sort of wide alley that connected the two condemned buildings, she was nearly sick.

She had to turn around the corner to keep from retching.

Something moved. She took a deep breath-trying to forget about the horrible stench of blood that was _everywhere_ -and went over.

She already knew who it was before she even saw him.

“ _Iori!”_ she yelled, seeing him collapsed by a wall close to the front of it. There was not as much actual human wreckage in this area; most of that was further back, but the blood had flowed out to here. There must have been twenty men in that alley, she thought, as she grit her teeth and closed her eyes. She was thankful that the lighting was bad enough that she could not see the worst of the details. 

He was hurt terribly. Stabbed, shot, and she had a feeling that he had no idea what had even happened.

_This was not Iori._

_This was Iori under the Riot of the Blood._

She could feel the taint on him; Orochi was a being powerful enough that she had gotten familiar with the feeling from past tournaments.

He was covered in blood and dirt. She didn't even hesitate as she reached a hand out to try to wipe some of it off of his face.

Iori stared blankly at her, his breath shallow. “A...Athena...” He started to move, though this caused a few of his wounds to spew blood. Blood that he could no longer afford to lose.

“Don't,” she said, her voice shaking, having never heard him sound like that before. She pushed back his hair, sticky and matted with blood. She knew what she would have to do, even though she knew what it likely meant.

Concentrating, her hands began to glow a soft purple as she touched his face with one hand and his chest with another.

Athena's power could not instantly heal things, bring the dead back to life, regrow limbs, or anything like that, but it could have _some_ healing properties to it; enough to speed along Iori's natural healing and to help deal with the worst of the wounds.

But doing so caused him to throw his head back, grit his teeth, and snarl...and suddenly, Athena found herself entwining once again with his own power...and heading to a familiar place. She could barely hear Iori in the background, though he did not push her away. There was an instant that she began to fear that if he enraged again she would be the only person in the way...and given what he had done to Kyo, that was a frightening prospect...but she did not stop.

Flashes of violence passed through her head; past and present. She ignored them. She was not trying to pry; this was something that apparently just happened with them. Perhaps it was Orochi's influence-she had no idea.

She saw the familiar child in her mind's eye as she continued to pour the psychic energy into him. He looked the same, despite it having been so many years. Given that he was just an apparition, he had no memory of her; he was more symbolic, she figured.

And she felt the same overwhelming grief.

Pushing through, this time she said nothing. She reached down and wiped the boy's tears away with her hand as she knelt in front of him. Tears-caused by said grief just like the first time-slid down her own cheeks. Despite the first incident happening years ago, seeing it again made it all come back in spades. 

_I don't know what's causing this. But this is all I can do._

The boy looked up, sniffling. She stroked his hair for a moment as he looked up at her; he still looked sad-immensely so-but his tears stopped. He looked around, seemingly confused. 

Right after this, he simply turned to walk away, the apparition fading as he did so.

Athena looked up at Iori, who was tensed up and gritting his teeth hard as he slammed his bloodied fist into the ground, causing a hole. When she finally stopped, she was exhausted, both mentally and physically; her hands were bloody, and she had it spattered a few other places due to simply touching him and having him cough it out everywhere.

She looked over the wounds on his body; they were not bleeding anymore and did not look as severe.

Iori looked at her, his rage gone...for the most part. Oh, he was always enraged, like Kyo had said, but he was no longer under the Riot of the Blood. He looked over his body, over at the horrific alley, and then at her again, seeing how she was bloodied and exhausted, clearly having came there to pour any psychic energy she had into him. His heart still pounded, though he felt slightly different.

He wasn't sure if he liked the feeling...but he lifted his hand, hesitating for a moment.

She reached up to take it, showing that she was not afraid of any of the blood or anything.

Pausing, he touched one of the tears on her face, more out of curiosity than anything. He seemed somewhat confused at the moment. He then slid his hand around her head and pulled it to his chest, keeping it there. She could hear his heart pounding; his breathing was extremely heavy as well. He was clearly not very comfortable, yet he seemed to be trying...something. Anything. 

She didn't move at the moment. Partially because she was too exhausted, and partially because that despite the stench of blood and the fact they were in an incredibly disturbing place of death right now, Iori had actually attempted to reach out to her again.

She wasn't about to turn him away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving a note about the feminine looking man I described. For those who missed the parts in the games where he popped up, his name is Shroom, one of Those from the Past, not an OC. Those from the Past are not exactly deep characters, and one could miss the ending where they're in, so I wanted to point this out if someone was curious. You did have to play through a story mode and a couple of endings to ever see him.


	4. Chapter 4

Nearly a month had passed since the day he had brought her to his apartment for the first time. It had been a week and a half since the horrible incident where he was driven into the Riot.

Since then, he had not minded Athena dropping in on him, and even occasionally went with her if she insisted he go out somewhere in an attempt to be mildly social. It only somewhat worked; he'd go out-usually to a noodle shop or something with her-but he would usually only talk to her.

Athena was satisfied. It was better than him withdrawing completely.

His injuries had healed quickly, despite several of them being deadly, only to be fixed by Athena's healing ability. They left some scars, but he had no problems with these. Those from the Past had almost done him in, and that generally pissed him off, and being pissed off gave him all the more reason to live so he could rip them apart. If there was one thing Iori _didn't_ plan on doing anytime soon, it was dying. Iori knew he was a violent, stubborn asshole, but he was a _tenacious_ violent, stubborn asshole and he wasn't going to go until he was damn good and ready.

Iori and Athena had started to figure out that they had somehow breached...something, that they didn't know-and were able to set off his Riot of the Blood, as if they were contacting Orochi himself. That was all they knew, though. He wasn't even sure who was _really_ behind it. Were one of the old heads of Orochi still around? Were Those from the Past trying to re-awaken him still at full power? They were still trying to figure out how things were tied into the strange time breach that happened, but neither of them much wanted to even _try_ to understand that. Athena was rather an expert at weird goings on, what with her ties to near magical energies, but even she had given up. They knew it was Those from the Past-the man and the woman Iori had run into in the alley proved that-but they just didn't know their current motives.

Whatever they wanted to do, they were almost successful in one thing, and that was ending the Yagami clan. Their 'attack' caused a slaughter of about twenty people they sent after him to try to kill him, and they would have succeeded if Athena hadn't found him. The assassins all died gruesomely by Iori's hands, but his injuries were almost fatal.

Iori had a feeling they may try to target Athena next...given that she was the one who healed him.

Athena had noticed that while he was not particularly _warm_ yet, he was much calmer around her, and even a little more kind. He wasn't what one would call friendly, but she thought from a distance he could have been passed off as a _very_ surly friend or par...

She stopped that train of thought.

He still seemed agitated, however. She could only imagine; he had snapped, and the results had been a complete horror. That night he had even held her to him; and that was something he rarely did even before the blood took him over in his old relationship, let alone to anyone else.

After it was all said and done, Athena had ended up staying at his place for two nights, making up a couple of excuses for skipping training. With everything that had happened, they both felt it might be a good idea.

However, Iori was beginning to get uncomfortable again. It was much like he felt before; the fast heartbeat, the feel that his soul had been laid bare again.

He hated that feeling.

He had a few nights on his own, and she had come back today after her training. He did not mind her company there for now, though he didn't know why he started to feel the way he did, and that bothered him. Athena did not pry into him, and he did not particularly feel like he was getting attacked, either. But something had started to feel weird.

Iori didn't know _what_ to think.

At the moment, he was having a few smokes after returning from dinner. She simply sat there with one of the books from his shelf.

Wandering around, he stared out the window again. He did that a lot. He sort of missed seeing the moon, as it was heavily overcast; the stagnant air was going to explode in a thunderstorm at any point, he knew. Judging by from what he heard on one of the droning television sets at the noodle shop, the rain was due to stay for several days, with storms on and off.

He felt...off. Wrong. Or he didn't know. He didn't know why sometimes he was alright, but other times he felt like she was staring into him. He had no idea what the fuck happened, but something did, and he didn't like it.

Iori looked over at Athena again as she sat up and on the edge of the bed. She had been watching him rather intently these past ten or so minutes, he noticed...rather than reading the book.

“Hmm?” he asked, thinking she wanted something.

“Ah...nothing.” She scratched her head, getting up to walk around. Her stomach fluttered. She couldn't help it-wearing only his dark jeans and his leather collar, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, the figure he cut was _exceptionally_ easy on the eyes. She usually was not the type to stare, but as her feelings developed-even if it was extremely slowly-she began to notice more things.

His eyes narrowed, though he wasn't really angry. He stretched, stuffing out the cigarette he had and started to debate maybe going out again on his own.

Athena looked at him questioningly. “What's wrong?” she finally asked.

“That's it. I don't know;” he said, a bit sharply. “I'm starting to feel...” he trailed off. “Are you...?”

She shook her head before he could finish. “I'm not doing anything. Really.” She truly wasn't; she thought perhaps some of the remnants of power were perhaps still floating around. She looked off to the side, seemingly in thought.

Iori looked at her this time. He grit his teeth. His mind was racing around...at this moment, he wasn't annoyed with her. On the contrary. He was enjoying how she looked and actually somewhat enjoying her company. He was angry that he couldn't just fully relax around her; only somewhat, when he knew that he should be able to do more.

He remembered the alley; not the destruction he caused, but afterward, after she healed him, even through all the horror. He touched her head and held it to his chest, and at that moment he wanted nothing more...but then his mind started tearing several different ways again, as it would for the past years.

As much as he'd love to forget it, he didn't know why he just didn't kick her out and tell her never to return. But he couldn't bring himself to. He _didn't want that_.

Finally, he decided to see where it would all lead, if anywhere. His hand opening and closing roughly, he walked over to her, crouching down to be more at an eye level with her as she sat there. She looked over at him.

“What do you want from me?” His heart was beating in his chest harder than it had in years. He couldn't think of anything else to ask.

She looked off to the side. “I...” she trailed off. She didn't know.

He had not had any sort of relationship in years; the last one he had, the one he did care about for awhile, at least...he would rather had forgotten how that had ended, but he knew his brain would never let him forget.

_Not about to do it again..._

_...Are you even considering that you..._

“What?” he asked again, his eyebrows furrowed. She looked nervously off to the side. He snorted laughter.

“I knew I still frightened you.”

She suddenly looked sharply back at him; the eyes had a look at he swore he remembered...back during that incident.

It was he who looked away this time.

“I...” she started. “I think it's both,” she said.

And there it was. After the incident years ago, it seemed both of them had been a bit afraid of what they saw; afraid, and full of sorrow.

Iori's lip curled into a snarl; he did not know what to do right now. Let his instinct take over, or not. He was afraid of what his instinct would do, since he knew what his instinct did most of the time, and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to let it go like this.

His heart continued to pound in his ears, but when her hand cupped his cheek, he felt something similar to what he did that day. She could soothe him somewhat on an almost base, subconscious level. Not a whole lot, but even a little was something he did not feel often, save for a few times when he would play music.

Not sure what was happening, what came over him, or what _would_ happen, he let go.

The next thing he knew he found himself with his lips pressed to hers, and he was not being particularly gentle. He was not harming her, but his kiss was rough, hungry, and almost desperate; his tongue sliding into her mouth as her lips parted.

Athena had no idea _this_ would happen, though she found herself falling into it, slightly wincing under his fingers that slid down her back; Iori's touch was rough, though it was not particularly unpleasant. It would just take a _bit_ of getting used to.

She was not unhappy this happened, but she had no idea where it would go.

Iori wasn't sure either. Suddenly, he went from not wanting to touch her to wanting to do a whole lot of things with her, seemingly all at once. Separating a moment he pushed her down, straddling her with one knee on either side. She looked up at him, her eyes slightly heavy lidded as if she had no idea what to make of this. She was curious, though, and seeing where things would go from here.

“Iori...” she started.

He stopped her with another kiss, even a bit more ferocious than before. She fell into it, wondering what was going through his head. His tongue slid into her mouth, maneuvering around and when the kiss broke, he teased her lips with it, tracing it down her neck so he could kiss and nip at it. He started to bite just a little hard at one point, causing her to squeal.

Iori pulled back. He had lost himself for a moment; her skin was smooth, she smelled good, and it felt rather nice against his lips.

She shook her head. It wasn't _that_ bad...it just had been sudden. She reached her hand up to trace over his lips, his tongue coming out to lick at her fingers.

The feeling made her shudder; she was clearly _quite_ turned from this. The tip of his tongue teased her lips again before tracing back down her neck and chest. He kissed down her neck, a bit roughly, though he forwent using his teeth as he was inclined to do. Athena squirmed a little in his grasp at the feeling of it all.

He continued to kiss her, sucking at her lower lip, sometimes hard enough to make her moan; he half hoped he didn't bruise it or something so she wouldn't have to explain it away.

They both sort of just got to know each other on a more physical level for awhile. Athena was fully into this now, kissing down his neck as he threw back his head and moaned low in his throat. It felt damned good-everything she did-and he finally allowed himself to feel something more than burning rage or just misery in general.

His hands traced over and found her breasts; he traced his thumb around a nipple, feeling it stiffen under his touch. Athena smiled, gasping. Iori leaned in closer to her to trace his tongue down her neck and chest again, rather tempted to begin to tease her breast a little more to see what she would do.

Instinct was a funny thing, as he continued to let it take him over here somewhat. He suspected if he didn't he'd end up leaving the room. He slid one breast out, though didn't remove the bra completely. His fingers started to trace around the nipple again, which had gotten incredibly stiff due to the cool air and his motions.

Dipping his head down, he took it in his mouth and sucked a few moments, teasing it with the tip of his tongue as she squealed. His large hand traced down her side, his nails lightly raking her skin, causing her to squirm, the hair on her neck standing on end.

When he decided to kiss her stomach, she moaned considerably louder.

It felt like they were moving quickly, but they had been at things for a little while, and it wasn't like they were strangers in the first place. Iori just stopped thinking too much, his instinct was running this show at this moment. He teased her stomach with his tongue, kissing lower as Athena's soft moans kept on. It felt extremely good.

Iori slid his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and looked up at her. She giggled, but nodded.

He removed them, her underwear still remaining. He found himself sliding them off as well as he leaned down again, his tongue dancing on her lips. His hand slid down to tease between her legs; she had already gotten quite slick. Soft sounds escaped her, though she seemed just a bit uncomfortable as she squirmed a little as his finger slid inside, though she adjusted to it soon enough. His hands tended to be a bit rough.

Athena was new to this; he was fairly skilled with his hand, tracing his fingers around her folds, noticing how wet she was already. She couldn't help it; they had been at this for a little while now and Iori, for not having done much in awhile, certainly didn't forget anything.

He drew back his hand, sliding a finger into his mouth. Right then and there he decided to slide down and see what his tongue could do for her.

She gasped, instinctively almost holding her legs together...but then let them apart when she saw him looking up at her. She did not mind him doing this, despite never having had it done; it would be a new feeling, and his hot breath was turning her on even more than she already was.

Starting out licking around her outer folds a little, he slid his tongue down and inside of her for a moment before licking her up and down, her moans suddenly escalating. For some time, he flicked his tongue up and down her, feeling her move against him already, her head resting back on the pillow as she bit her lip.

He kept at this, seeing things she may have liked, greatly enjoying how she tasted and how her slick folds felt against his tongue. He pulled back a moment to bite at her thighs; as they were hidden from view he didn't feel as inclined to hold back. She squealed at the feeling; it hurt a little but was also somehow exhilarating.

It did not take him long to delve in, his mouth pressing to her as he began to intensify his actions. He glanced up at her a moment as his hands traced down her sides; a bit roughly, but she was enjoying what his mouth was doing too much to really care at the moment. His hands traced around to her rear as he held her closer so he was able to get more access.

Athena gasped louder at this feeling; it definitely felt amazing. She didn't know what to think; one minute he seemed hesitant, the next, he was letting his instincts take over.

She was correct on this.

He inhaled her scent and growled low in his throat as he continued. He was completely surrounded by her, her legs sliding up onto his muscular shoulders as he licked. One of her hands found his hair; usually someone that disliked having his hair played with, he was fine at the moment. His mind was sort of elsewhere.

No one had been here before, he knew, and it was sort of arousing in and of itself. He could feel himself pressing against his trousers more and more as time went on. He wasn't sure why he decided to do this, but he went with it, getting even more into things as he began to thrust his tongue deeper inside of her, coating it with her slick fluids before bringing his tongue in to swallow and going back again.

She was starting to get louder, moving against him quickly as he decided to tease her clit. He pulled away long enough to lick his wet lips off. Her other hand slid down...and the fingers slid under the collar around his neck.

At this, Iori moaned very low, his eyes taking on a new expression as he bit rather intensely at her thighs a moment, causing her to squeal out, biting her lip...but the endorphin rush she got was rather amazing.

As Athena felt him return to suck at her clit-getting even a bit rough-she cried out, feeling herself getting closer and closer to her climax; this felt _exceptionally_ good. Whatever he was doing was something that she wouldn't mind having done again.

She came with a low cry and he moaned deeply at this; he began to drink her in until the waves passed over her. He pulled back, his mouth soaked as he licked his lips, using his fingers to get a little more off. He sat over next to her, leaving her panting there as he sat cross-legged.

Eventually she sat up, crossing her own legs and shivering; his actions had felt incredible. The bed was damp beneath her and her thighs were quite wet as well. She looked over at him.

“Why...”

He shrugged. He had both of his arms resting on his knees. He licked his lips once.

She smiled softly. “Did you...like it?” She didn't have much of an idea of what to say. She had dated some guys in the past but never really went further than a few kisses or mild groping at best.

He looked over at her, giving her a tiny smile. “Yes.” Truth be told, this was the most enjoyable time he had done this, but he didn't mention that.

She reached over to stroke the skin of his back with her hand gently; he was sweating a bit, despite the air having been on.

He tensed under her touch. She found that strange; he had just gotten done putting his head between her legs for quite awhile, yet still tensed from a basic touch.

Iori shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Athena noticed why, her eyebrows raising.

“You...”

He nodded. He thought that it was a testament to his will he didn't tug himself off right there. He wasn't sure he would have been able to last much longer doing what he was doing.

She leaned back after a few moments. “Come on.” She suddenly wanted to go all the way. She wanted to see where this would take them. She realized it might only be nothing, or maybe they would connect more.

Athena realized now she was definitely falling for him, and that was dangerous. She sort of thought she was even then, but when one's heart _literally connects_ with someone-not just figuratively-it is extremely hard to forget. Her instinct wanted to help him, and she didn't know what else. There was clearly more there that she felt. Not necessarily from just the first time, but as she got to know him more, and spend more time with him.

Iori blinked, though moved to kneel in front of her, freeing his ample member from his trousers and stroking it with his hand. He knew she would be plenty wet from what he just did most like, though he paused for a moment, leaned down, and flicked his tongue around her again for a little more time. She squealed, highly sensitive from her previous orgasm. He wanted to taste her a little again too, he couldn't lie to himself.

He finally sat up, satisfied she was wet enough.

It was all he could do right now to restrain himself. His more fierce side wanted to go back, eat her out for the next hour until she couldn't take it and her fluids were dripping down his chest, and _then_ drive inside of her and fuck her silly until he released, but he did not want to hurt her. He knew that. He couldn't stand the thought of it.

He started to wonder if this was a good idea, until he just decided to finally slide in.

She gasped in light pain; her first time, despite being slick, was going to hurt, she knew. He looked at her a moment. If she wanted him to stop, he could go jerk off in the shower or something, it was no matter to him.

She nodded, a soft smile forming.

Iori let himself settle in some time; he could feel that she would need a few moments. When he felt that she was relaxed, started to thrust; she bit her lip, closing her eyes...but the pain gave way soon enough to pleasure as she began to match his rhythm. Occasionally tensing up when things felt a bit tight, her endorphins were running high so it was mostly pleasurable as time went on.

Athena saw his head bent low, his eyes shut. He was not looking at her. She could sense he was somewhat afraid to.

His fingers raked down her side, though gently...for him. She still suspected there would be a few scratch marks. They continued, Athena finally able to convince him to look into her eyes for just a moment.

The look in his was that of a hungry instinct that she had not seen...though it wasn't menacing. For just a moment...he pressed his forehead to hers and kissed her lightly, wanting some form of a more gentle contact. He pulled up quickly, squeezing his eyes shut and thrusting again.

After he had delved into her for as long as he did, he knew he wouldn't take long. A few more quick thrusts, he pulled out, stroking himself off to the side of the bed where he grabbed a towel he had thrown onto the floor.

Athena sat up, unable to even reach him in time before he grit his teeth, finally coming. He continued to stroke a few more times until he felt he was finished, wiping himself off with the clean part of the towel before sitting back. It was an abrupt end, but given that she saw him panting and clenching his teeth she assumed he was finished for a reason.

He absently threw the towel into the washer that sat in the corner and reached over to the nightstand to pull out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one. He took a deep drag and exhaled, looking out the window. He could still smell her on his face ever so slightly, as by the time he was done going down on her his mouth and chin had been covered.

Athena, having recovered, crawled over next to him to sit. She still wore her bra, and he his trousers-they had not bothered to get completely undressed.

“Are you okay?” she couldn't think of anything else to ask.

He looked over at her. “Yeah.” He didn't say much more, but looked back out the window. “I'll be back,” he said, stuffing out the cigarette and heading off to the shower to rinse.

Athena had to sort of process what had just happened. Oh, she was more than willing. It happened rather quickly; it almost felt like both of them had something bubbling beneath the surface for awhile now that finally came out; something that neither really thought about. She had only thought she wanted to help him; she didn't think that she had developed other feelings for him too after all this time, but she supposed she perhaps was trying to ignore the feeling.

She had no idea what was up with him.

Iori came out a few moments later, naked and drying his hair; he simply threw the towel over next to the bed and pulled on a pair of jeans that he grabbed from the floor.

Shaking her head, she stood. She looked at him for a moment before heading off to his rather dank bathroom herself to clean up somewhat; she was left rather wet from the affair, though the ache in her stomach and midsection was pleasant....not to mention the feeling in her chest. While there was still the sorrow-and far too much of it-there was something else there now.

Looking around, the place wasn't dirty, she noticed; it was just...grim, with only a small window high up and a buzzing fluorescent light over the sink. The sink-off to the side-had a mirror, a cabinet with some typical odds and ends, and whatever else one would find. There was no bathtub; the shower simply drained onto the floor. The water was plenty hot though, which she enjoyed.

Coming back out, she saw him leaning his forehead against his arm, staring out the window, a glass of wine in his hand and another cigarette in his mouth.

Sliding her underwear, bra, and shirt back on, she decided to leave the rest of her clothes off for now, unless he decided he wanted to be alone. Athena didn't want to leave him alone; she would respect his wishes of course, but...

She walked up to him, standing next to him a moment. He looked down, the corner of his mouth tugging into a tiny smile. He handed her his wine glass. “Want some?”

Taking a sip, she smiled. “Pretty good.” She looked around at the place, surprised he actually did have some fair taste in things. She handed it back, deciding to stand behind him, wrap her arms around his waist, and rest her head between his muscular shoulderblades. He was close to a head taller than her, but she was able to get comfortable.

He tensed up at this, taking a drag of his cigarette. He began to breathe heavier; it was like ever since his last relationship, and how he had gotten worse. He had trouble here. He knew there could be getting away from it; simply distancing himself from her would do that. He could just leave her here while he went to get some food, or something.

He didn't know why he stayed.

He smashed out his cigarette right on the floor, not bothering to find the ashtray, and slid his large hand down to rest over one of hers after a few moments. His hand was a bit rough against hers, due to his extreme training that he put them through as well as his constant fighting.

She decided to take him over to the bed. She lay down, and he lay next to her, though she positioned his head so it was on her chest.

Iori was incredibly tense still at this. Fucking, he could do that anytime she wanted. If she wanted him to eat her out again, he'd let her sit on his face for however long she could take it.

But this...was different. It was more _real_.

Athena smoothed his hair down, hoping he would begin to relax-even if it was just a little. He shifted a bit, but stayed in the position; she smiled slightly when he eventually brought his other hand up to rest on her shoulder.

He decided to try to drift off. He figured he'd let her stay like that if she wanted.

It couldn't hurt.

–

He didn't even remember his dreams.

For once.

Iori hadn't slept that soundly in ages. No nightmares. No dreams. No nothing. He didn't know if he had gotten used to the whole entwining spirit mess or whatever the hell it was. Maybe the sex made him sleepy, as it had been about four years since he had actually had sexual contact with anyone that wasn't his own hand. He had no idea, and he didn't care, since sleeping soundly was something he thought he'd never do again.

Athena was still asleep next to him. He had rolled over at some point, his head having come off her chest, though they were still fairly entwined. He sat up, the sort of air of a 'sexual hangover' in the room; he could still somewhat smell it as the window had been closed due to him having put the air on for her.

He decided to crack it for a moment, breathing in. It was raining hard, though still extremely hot out. He suspected there would be thunderstorms today, as the weather had warned. Checking the clock in the corner, it was about five-thirty. He didn't know when he had finally drifted off the night before.

He looked back over at Athena, who had turned onto her side. She _was_ beautiful. He wasn't against allowing himself to enjoy the odd bit of beauty. He just tried to hold back from anything more. He found his hand reaching over to stroke her long hair a few times; it was soft and well cared for.

Iori looked her up and down; she was not very tall, and had a light and agile, though athletic, build. He knew the old man put her and Kensou through a lot of training, though none of the three were particularly large.

He thought back to how he actually did like kissing her yesterday...as well as everything else.

As his mind wandered back, it also sort of clicked in his head that she was indeed dressed in nothing but her underwear right now...and then he felt himself sort of start to press against his trousers again.

 _Fuck,_ he thought to himself. He didn't want to go all the way again. Not this soon.

But...

Crawling back over and behind her, he went near her waist again, deciding to slowly kiss down her side as she lie there. She began to stir almost immediately, squirming a bit. She tilted her head up, glancing back at him as she shivered.

She blinked. “Iori?” She looked a little surprised... _pleasantly_ surprised, that was. _Did he just..._ she thought to herself.

Iori continued to kiss down her side and also her back-still very slowly-licking and even biting at her skin. She smelled good, and he started to lose himself a little in trying to turn her on again. He slid off her bra quickly, and one large hand slid around to grasp one of her breasts; his fingers teased her as he continued to make his way down. Athena shivered in his grasp at the feeling of his heavy breaths and everything else, his tongue and lips warm against her skin.

He finally got down around her leg as he rolled her over onto her back. He let his tongue trace down her stomach to her navel...and a bit below. His fingers found the top of her underwear as he made a motion to tug them down; the fact that she helped him rather freely told him that she was more than willing to take part in whatever he had in mind. Running on his instinct again, he slid down lower, kissing her the entire way.

While Iori had _never_ been known to be a romantic, sensitive type, he was _particularly_ good at being sensual. Sure, he hadn't done it in years, but one doesn't forget these things. He looked down, his thumb grazing her mound slowly, before glancing back up.

Athena smiled softly; she was, to be frank, extremely horny this morning. Sleeping in the position they did, and just sometimes waking up sensitive-along with his touch-did that.

Not to mention his actions right now drove her nearly mad. Besides, if he _wanted_ to initiate contact like this, it was _just_ fine to her.

Continuing to let his instinct carry him again, Iori parted her; he could see how wet she was, and her scent did not help the feeling in his trousers get any better. He leaned forward to lick her a few times before grasping her thighs in his powerful hands and holding her there as he began to pick up the pace. He thrust his tongue inside of her several times before pulling it back out to swallow what was on it; after some time pushed his face against her, the wet sounds of his mouth meeting her sex being one of the only sounds in the room besides her moans, the rain, and the quiet air conditioner. She noticed that he was not being particularly light in his ministrations as his breathing became heavier along with her own.

Her moans grew in intensity; between the sensitivity of her when she woke up, along with Iori's near immediate and _very_ intense actions, she aimlessly thought that she was not going to last too long. She would yell out a little louder when she felt his hands reach around to hold her rear tightly and felt him bite again at her thighs; she suspected she would have a few marks there by the time they were done.

Once he sucked hard at her clit again-even nipping a little this time-she squealed, knowing she would likely come again soon, though he seemed to sense this and pulled back ever so slightly to extend it. Her legs slid up around him again, and like yesterday one of her hands found his hair to slide her fingers through it. She let out a loud and shaking moan when she felt him press forward even harder, sucking again at her clit while snaking his tongue inside of her, thrusting it quickly. She came soon after, shaking in his grasp.

He held her around the waist, staying pressed against her, his tongue sliding in and out to better taste everything. His eyes closed, he didn't pull away for another few moments.

He eventually sat her down, his mouth and chin near dripping from that time. Licking his lips off, he moved to sit at the edge of the bed, using his hand to wipe the rest from his face. He wasn't even there that long-perhaps ten minutes, but she seemingly was left more worn out than the first time. The spot where she lay was _much_ wetter than it was yesterday.

Iori didn't know what prompted him to do that...he had just wanted to, and he enjoyed every second; actually getting enjoyment out of something different was something that he was glad for.

He eventually stood, shifting painfully. He was rock hard at the moment and he had to slide it out of the top of his trousers to give himself some breathing room.

“I'll be back,” he said, suddenly. He started to walk off.

Athena blinked. “Don't you...” she started. She took his hand; she somehow wanted to try again from yesterday.

He paused for a moment before pulling it out the rest of the way, setting her on the edge of the bed. Setting one knee next to her as his other leg remained on the floor for support, he guided himself inside; after yesterday, she was left a bit looser, and even wetter from what he just did.

He still gave her some time to get used to it before starting to thrust, Athena's moans growing slightly louder with each. He was already so close that he only needed a few strokes; when he felt himself start to go he pulled out again, yanking the towel he had used to dry himself off yesterday off the ground to once again catch everything. His mood shifted; right now he was torn three different ways, he wanted to give her everything she could want, he was a bit pissed he couldn't last longer due to it having been ages, and he still wanted to push everyone away.

_How fucking romantic. That was what, a minute?_

Snarling when he was through-mostly due to the sudden frustration, he threw the towel over to the washer again as he sat on the edge of the bed and sighed deeply, though it may have been more in disappointment. At himself, at his inability to clearly do what she wanted. He was able to forget about how long he lasted, as he was so horny from eating her out that he couldn't help it. But everything else still frustrated him.

Yanking a cigarette out of the pack, he lit it. The room certainly smelled of sex now between the two of them. He would need another shower after this. He suspected another hole would appear in the wall.

Sitting next to him as he started smoking, Athena pushed back some of his thick hair. He tensed again, but didn't make much of a move to stop her. She slid her hand under his chin to hold his head over just enough to look at him.

His eyes were somewhere between frustrated, sad, lonely, and angry. As they always were. Sometimes more of one or the other, but that's just how he was.

She leaned in to kiss him lightly on the mouth, not saying anything else. She felt a tug in her chest when he returned it after a few moments, as if to at least try to acknowledge some measure of...something there.

He stood after it broke, walking over to the window to finish his cigarette. Putting it out, he grabbed yet another fresh towel from the battered dresser that sat in the corner.

“I'll be in the shower.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “You can have whatever you want.”

Iori put the water on as hot as he could stand it-which was more than what ordinary people would consider actually reasonable in any way. The steam in the room helped relax him.

He stood under it, washing everything from himself; this morning's rather messy session left him covered in an array of bodily fluids.

He had not done anything like this in years, and he wasn't sure how he felt. Oh, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed everything he did with her. He would certainly do it again. He found Athena attractive-beautiful, even, and he certainly felt somewhat calm around her. Oh, he still thought her ideals silly and that she was likely going to end up disappointed when she discovered that justice was a lie, but he noticed an almost stubborn aspect about how she kept trying to push him ever so slightly open.

He wasn't sure how much he liked that, but he noticed he was halfassed in pushing her away. He didn't do what he did to everyone else, which was snarl and threaten. There was a small part of him that supposed the fact she _was_ stubborn when it came to getting through to him was something he may have actually liked, given his own tendencies to not let certain things go.

Keeping the shower short, he was somewhat calmer afterward. Wandering out with a towel around his shoulders, he didn't bother putting on clothes at the moment, since what was the point. He had just spent roughly forty five minutes of the past six or so hours with his face buried between her legs and a few more minutes up inside of her. Nothing they wore around each other now particularly mattered.

Athena had made tea; he remembered faintly that she had a taste for it, in some discussion way back. While he preferred coffee, he did keep some tea on hand to relax, and he took the cup she offered him. He nodded.

“I...have no idea where you keep your stuff,” she said, a smile on her face.

He shook his head. “Don't worry.” He sipped it, going to find his cigarettes. He was running low and would have to go buy some soon; he thought he only had a pack left. He stood by the window, not bothering moving the towel from his shoulders. It wasn't like anyone could see in, and it wasn't like he'd give a shit if they did.

She still hadn't put on much herself; only her small shirt. She was planning on showering again too before she left...mostly out of necessity, since she had to sort of keep up appearances when she got back.

After a few moments of silence, Iori spoke.

“I guess you'll want to come back.”

“Of course,” she answered matter of factly.

His brow furrowed. “Don't think this is anything right now but what it was.”

She shook her head.

“If you want it again, tell me.” He was fairly blunt. Iori supposed that if she didn't bother him with too many positivity lectures and simply wanted to have a little fun, he was fairly willing to give that. After not having any sort of contact other than his own hand for years, he actually enjoyed it again. There were a few things he sort of wanted to do with her, and he could sort of feel that she was curious in some of her own actions.

Athena laughed at that. “I...maybe. Yes. I mean...” she blushed, clearly flustered at his proposition.

Iori snorted. “I just sat there licking you out for a night and _now_ you blush?”

If there was another flaw that Iori Yagami had besides his murderous tendencies, blood curse, and his general disposition of disliking anything on two legs, it was that he _also_ tended to lack social graces from time to time.

She blurted out laughter. “Well...when you put it that way...”

He rolled his eyes, though he was in no way angry. He wasn't even annoyed; in fact, he was amused.

He had relationships before, though very few. Besides the one he didn't like to think about, the rest were when he was younger, messing about in bands. He didn't really remember anything of those, either.

Iori thought Athena would not be easily scared, though he shook his head. He didn't actually want to start anything. Not again. His mind and his entire self were being pulled too many different ways right now and he wasn't sure he liked that. He considered withdrawing for a few days after this, just to train and play his bass.

Almost as if she could sense his feelings, she took a sip of the tea and smiled sadly. “Let me know when.”

He moved to sit down in his chair before looking up at her.

“Soon.” He actually smirked slightly for a moment. “Might need to try a few things again. Maybe you won't get embarrassed as easy.” He actually leaned forward to nip at her bare thigh with the comment.

Athena actually squealed...and laughed.

_Did he just...joke around somewhat?_

He didn't move his head for a moment; he stayed, half nuzzling at a thigh, adding a few more bites to it. She still had no underwear on.

His breath was beginning to...do things, she noticed.

Iori, letting his instinct go yet again, discovered that his instinct had apparently _really_ missed sexual contact, particularly the way he found himself sliding over to nip at her mound before moving her leg out of the way. He glanced up at her for a moment before plunging his tongue back into her.

Athena squealed; she was still sensitive and this came _completely_ out of nowhere. She glanced down a moment, seeing him bite at her again, his tongue thrusting quickly. He seemed to want to get her off one more time. He sucked again at her sensitive clit as her legs started to shake; he held her there so she wouldn't fall as she felt herself come after just a few more moments of his pleasure.

Pressing his face there again, he finished her off, swallowing, enjoying the feel of her fluids running down his throat.

As he pulled away-his mouth, chin, and some more of his face glistening-she thought it was actually one of the hottest things she had seen. She swallowed hard as he let her down; he sat over on his chair enough for her to join him there. She looked over at him as he finished wiping off his face with his hand after licking his lips off. He tapped a cigarette out of his pack afterward and lit it.

He was completely naked still she noticed, though given that she only wore her shirt, it wasn't like she had been in a hurry to dress.

After some silence-his large hand actually eventually moving over to rest on hers for a few moments to stroke it before moving it away-she looked over at him.

“Have plans today?”

He looked outside. “No idea. Food.”

Athena smiled. “I could use some of that soon. I should probably get back to the dojo soon though. They're going to wonder where I was all night.” She debated stepping into the shower again just for a few moments, as her thighs and midsection were slick all over again.

“What are you guys doing there? I never did ask.”

“Chin came to meet with Takuma for awhile. We missed some others from here anyway.”

He nodded, finishing the smoke and flicking it out the window; it was raining so hard it was put out almost immediately.

Looking her over again, he really was appreciating not only how she looked, but also how he felt around her. Even that little bit of calm was something he rarely felt.

“I...need some time,” he said, finally. Which he did. Iori had not really done anything like this in years, and he was starting to see-particularly at that moment just now-how easily he was able to be sexually open around her. That little surprise moment was something he had not even done in old relationships, and he didn't know what prompted it.

She looked over, brushing back a little of his hair before standing to get dressed. “I know.”

Iori went to throw some clothes on himself, opting for a pair of reddish jeans instead of leather due to the rain. He would go eat and then come back, maybe to just relax with his bass. After topping it off with his collar, and a reddish tank top- Athena noticed it went rather nice with his hair-and a pair of boots, he pocketed his last full pack of smokes and grabbed what seemed to be a black rain coat off the wall. Athena mused that he looked _extremely_ good in it with his chosen outfit. She had already finished dressing.

“You can stay here until the rain passes. I don't know when I'll be back.” He turned to leave when Athena grabbed his arm for a moment. He turned to look down...and he started to feel uncomfortable again-just a little. Which actually confused the fuck out of him, given everything they had just done the past day.

She pulled him down to give him a light kiss on the mouth. It took him a moment, but he returned it...and even deepened it, letting his tongue lightly slide into her mouth as a hand slid down her back to squeeze, holding her there for just a few moments before breaking it rather suddenly. His strong hand slid up her back and over her shoulder as he stood back up.

He spared her a small smile afterward-it had a rather sad air to it-mostly because he had a feeling he was really unable to do what she wanted right now.

His heart pounding again, he nodded a goodbye and shut the door behind him.

Athena went to go sit in the chair, even stopping to straighten up the towels. She sat, realizing the sad look he gave her was reminiscent of the time he thought he had hurt her those years ago-only he hadn't smiled then.

She looked out the window and trying to figure out exactly _what_ happened over the past twenty-four hours. The ache in her midsection was actually wonderful, her stomach was fluttering more than she had ever felt it, but her heart was still wishing she could help him.

His eyes told the story, and she could tell that while he physically enjoyed everything-like _really_ enjoyed everything-mentally, he was still a mess; constantly trying to keep his rage in check and his id from taking over himself permanently.

_I'm not sure if I have an answer here...I guess I'll just have to let it come on its own._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SNK never told us what happened to Iori's ex, or with her. Only that the girlfriend disappeared on his 'likes' section after a short time. I tend to run with that and not try to explain it fully-just in short vague phrases-since I think everyone has their own ideas. Whatever it was, it was probably not a happy time. 
> 
> This was an interesting chapter to do, as the sex was not particularly soft or loving. It was more primal, more 'harsh'. I couldn't see Iori any other way. His nickname, 'Unbridled Instinct', was something I paid attention to for this, just letting that carry him. I think for him it's almost getting to explore a side of himself he thought he lost. Even then there were attempts to show a little compassion on his side, as the guy isn't a complete monster. He just has a ton of issues. 
> 
> (and yes, the black long coat and boots are totally from his Another Iori Maniac Striker look in 2000.)


	5. Chapter 5

Greasy diner food seemed to be exactly what Iori wanted right now.

It was only about seven in the morning-three days after the rather intense time he and Athena had together.

Iori had been a whirlwind of emotions afterward, ranging from anger, to rage, to sadness, to frustration, to a very heavy longing...and back around again. This was often nothing new for Iori-though he generally had less sadness and more rage, and not much in the way of longing-but he was in a situation right now where he felt people trying to pry into his most evil side, and someone else making some effort to try to appeal to another side of him which _probably_ still existed-at least somewhat-but was buried by everything else.

And he had no idea where he landed.

The food that was placed in front of him seemed to be exactly what his body needed. Salty eggs, a pile of toast, potatoes, and an enormous assortment of greasy breakfast meat. There were times where Iori could eat for three it seemed; he had no idea what caused it, but he supposed his powers may have had something to do with it.

He had demanded they leave the coffee pot at the table; the look on his face tended to get waiters to listen quickly to him and then leave him alone.

Looking outside of the dingy place in some forsaken corner of South Town, the rain continued. It hadn't much let up, though it was only a few degrees cooler than it had been, turning many places into a sort of sauna. This place was kept comfortable enough, at least. He had slung his long, black raincoat across the other side of the booth.

He stared at the phone on the table before stubbing his cigarette out in the ash tray and setting into the greasy food. There were only a couple of other patrons at this place; older gentlemen, one at the counter drinking coffee and reading the paper, and another in a back booth doing the same. This was not the most patronized diner in South Town and for that he was grateful; it was also close to his apartment so he didn't even need to travel far.

As he ate, he heard the sound of the door opening, punctuated with the fairly hard rain that was still going. He swallowed and glanced up at the person walking close to his booth. He sighed.

“I hung up again,” he grumped.

Athena slid the hood of her own raincoat down, smiling slightly. “You still called.”

“How did you even find me?”

“You weren't home, and this is the only place nearby where I figured you'd have been.” She moved his raincoat over and sat across from him. “You also forget...” she tapped her head and chuckled. She was not able to locate perfectly, but if she was in a general area, she could get an idea if she was particularly close to someone.

Iori waved a waitress over, nodded at Athena, and grunted. Athena held back a chuckle as the waitress went to go get more coffee, along with a menu. When she left, he took a sip of his own and sighed. He scratched at the collar around his neck, Athena thinking to herself that he looked rather good today. His penchant for loose, low cut tank tops during the summer left little to the imagination-he was very well built and defined, given to his life of hard fighting and working out-something that despite having inhuman physical capabilities, he didn't ignore.

The black waterproof coat that he wore with his outfit went stunningly well on top of things.

She decided to take some incentive, reaching over to touch his hand that was lying on the table. He tensed at first...and then surprisingly turned it over to wrap around hers, his thumb tracing over the top. He was sort of staring at his cup of coffee as he did this, though he finally glanced up to look at her. He uttered a small snort of laughter as he let her hand go to continue eating.

Athena accepted the coffee when it came, though passed on food. “We ate already,” she said. “Chin's always up early with breakfast.”

They were silent for awhile as Iori polished off the rest of his greasy fare, sliding the plate off to the side and lighting a cigarette. He blew a thin stream of smoke out of his mouth as he leaned back, glancing around a moment before looking at her.

“Busy?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I was going to call you today anyway to ask you the same.” She noticed he was somewhat awkward right now. She knew that on his best days he chose to withdraw from people, and right now, she figured he was going through a lot.

“Was going to have a walk somewhere after this. Place I usually go.”

“Secret?” Her eyebrow raised.

“Not really. Out of the way.” He waved the waitress over, who placed the bill in front of him quickly. He dealt with everything before standing, slinging his black raincoat back on, and walking out, with Athena following suit.

She kept up with his long strides as he walked under any awnings and the like to try to keep at least somewhat dry. The place was fairly desolate; given the time of day and the fact he lived in a place with a sparse population, the weather caused the few that may have been out to hide inside.

“It's just on the roof of my building,” he said, walking quickly. He sort of wanted a cigarette, but it would be easier where they were going. “There's a place to stay dry.”

“Just a place where you go?”

He nodded, looking at her for a moment as they turned the corner to the alley near his place. He began to climb up the fire escape on the side. It looked a little old, but still sturdy.

The building where he stayed was about ten stories high; Iori took the steps double, with Athena fairly close behind. They eventually hit the top and he quickly led her to this small alcove which was fairly protected from the rain. The ground was fairly dry, and also swept clean; it showed that he came up here fairly often. He sat by the wall inside, digging a cigarette out of the pack in his coat pocket.

Athena joined him, sitting next to him as he lit it. “It does seem pretty nice and out of the way.”

He nodded. “I come here if my apartment isn't working out.”

She remembered the cracks in the walls and understood. She looked up at him, his hair slightly damp.

“How have you been the past few days?”

He shrugged. “Better than I was. Depends.” He looked down at her, a tiny smile creeping into the corner of his mouth. “You?”

“Very nice. I...uhh, after I got back I was surprisingly ready for a nap. Otherwise nothing new. I tried to look into some things about...you know, but nothing came of it.”

He nodded, his eyes darkening for a split second at their thought, but he shook out of it, attempting to keep his mood at least at 'neutral' at the moment. He looked back over at her. “Tired you said?”

She giggled. She was glad for this. He was loosening up, even if it was only a little. “Yeah. I managed to hide everything though.” She flashed her thigh...which held some small bruises on it, obviously from his bites. “I had to wear my longer shorts.”

He looked down at her thigh, smiling a little. The smile had a slightly wicked tone, though he stayed silent.

They looked over the city some more, the heat and the rain causing things to get even more uncomfortable. He stood.

“We can go back.”

She stood. “Yeah, I think I want the air.”

Before he stepped out, he looked down at her a moment, running a hand through her hair. She reached up to touch his face. Hesitating a moment, she decided to try to kiss him to see what his response would be.

Much to her pleasure, he returned it-lightly and slowly-but he returned it. He walked off after it broke letting her follow.

Stopping in to grab cigarettes from the store next door to his place, the two went inside, up the stairs, and eventually got to his place, which had gotten rather damp. He switched on the air to get the extreme humidity out of the room; it did feel quite good on his skin when he tossed off his long jacket. There was thunder rumbling, but he typically didn't worry about storms and electricity; he generally didn't care.

Stretching, he watched Athena as she carefully hung everything up and smiled slightly. He walked over to the window to open it a little; as he was getting his ashtray the little cat jumped up, looking rather damp and cross.

Athena laughed. “Poor thing.” She went over to scratch her ears; she soon started purring.

Iori got the usual food for her, crouching down to scratch her as well. She twined around his legs. “You can stay in here,” he said, quietly. “No place for you out there.”

Athena smiled at that. The little cat rubbed against him, looking even smaller next to his big hand than she was. He stood, letting her go eat as he shoved a cigarette into his mouth.

“Anything today?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“Let me know if you want me to go.”

Glancing over at her as he grabbed his bass and sat on his slightly ratty sofa, he blew a stream of smoke out, though never removed the cigarette.

“You can stay.”

He thought maybe-just maybe-spending another day with her might trip something inside of him. He had no idea. He had been a mess of emotions the past three days.

She grabbed a book and went to go lie down on his bed, mostly eyeing him while he set up. He started with a few scales; she watched his hands maneuver around the strings easily. She sat up, crossing her legs to watch him. Being a musician herself, she of course loved this.

“How long have you played?” she asked.

He set his boot up on the wooden table, pausing his playing to lean his head back and think; a puff of smoke appearing from the side of his mouth. He looked back at her through his hair. “Twelve years maybe. I started on piano. Don't remember much of that, though I can still play a little.” He continued on, the deep rumbling of the bass sounding very pleasant to her ears. He was playing his favorite four-string bass; the five-string and the fretless were propped in the corner.

The cat jumped on the bed to sit next to Athena, having finished her food. She smiled, stroking her.

Iori continued to play. He looked relaxed; leaning back on the sofa, the cigarette burning away in his mouth as he would occasionally take a drag. For once, Athena had a sense of...almost comfort in the place, between him looking somewhat content-though more neutral than anything-the cat next to her, and being in a place where she was starting to like to be more and more, despite it's grim appearance.

After winding up a particularly complicated sounding piece, he set it carefully back on the stand and flicked it off. He tossed his shirt and boots into a corner somewhere, stripping down to his jeans again. He went over to the bed to lay down next to where Athena was sitting, shoving a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it before putting one hand behind his head. He stared at the sparse ceiling, with all of its exposed plumbing.

He hadn't felt as calm as he did now in ages. Oh, he was still mostly on edge. He lived with the constant wonder if today would be a day where somehow Orochi would break the seal again and make him go insane, and with the constant gnawing at his subconscious that he did not belong to himself. It was hard to be calm, but right now, he was at least _somewhat_ content.

He had no idea how long it would last.

The cat sort of curled up between the two of them to nap. Athena laughed, repositioning so she sat next to his head as he lie there. She sort of liked that he walked over to be next to her for once; it showed he was attempting more of...something. Being somewhat personable.

_He's never going to be sweet. You know that._

She did know, and she didn't particularly care. She didn't even know where this was going. They weren't an item and they may never not be one, she knew. She would be happy if she even managed to shift a day or two of his to something _resembling_ normalcy, even if his violent thirst never went away.

Looking over at him, she ran a hand through his hair; she did love how it felt. Fairly long, well-groomed, thick, and soft. It was the oddest red color, which _was_ indeed natural.

She could confirm that as of the other night.

He glanced over at her, taking a drag of the cigarette and removing it from his mouth as he blew a stream of smoke up.

Athena decided to take a small bit of incentive here, and leaned down to give him one light kiss on the mouth. To her pleasure, he returned it; he set the cigarette in the ashtray on the table next to the bed and used his hand to slide behind her head, his fingers wrapping in her hair. He returned it rather firmly, his tongue sliding into her mouth, though his other hand remained behind his head.

Breaking, he picked up the cigarette again, glancing at her a moment, giving her a small smile before he looked back up at the ceiling.

He was getting torn several ways again. He liked kissing her. A lot. Every time he did, it actually gave him pleasure.

Then he would begin to think how he'd not be able to do what she wanted most likely, and that turned back into his anger. If he managed to stave off those thoughts, it lasted a little longer.

Athena continued to stroke his hair back as he lie there. The cat decided apparently that they were getting too cozy and retreated to the couch, though went immediately back to sleep, clearly happy to be out of the rain.

“Looks like she's moving in.”

Iori looked over and snorted laughter. He clearly didn't seem to mind. He looked back up at Athena as he put out his cigarette, and then tentatively pulled her down so her head was on his chest again. He was tense, to be sure, but he was trying, sliding his hands through her hair, stroking it.

She relaxed, her stomach twisting in pleasant knots. When he did things like this, it hit her emotionally hard. Not in a negative way. Athena was highly sensitive to people's emotions, and that seemed to go doubly for him, especially at this point. She took anything she could get; it spoke volumes he would even find it in him to attempt this. She could feel he was still hesitant, and trying to fight through whatever was holding him back.

He eventually repositioned after a few minutes, letting her lie on the bed as he propped over her. He looked her up and down before closing his eyes and exhaling.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He looked her up and down, wondering when his mind would start being torn in several ways at once again. As of now, he seemed to be okay, so he decided to instigate more.

He leaned over her as she lie there, breathing heavily as his lips barely brushed hers. His tongue slid out of his mouth to flick over her lips for a moment as her mouth opened to let it in; he pressed forward in a deeper, rougher kiss as he began to suck on her lower lip, like he would...even biting a little at it as she moaned.

Athena was starting to enjoy the biting; he _usually_ tried to keep it to more hidden places, and it gave their sessions a more...unbridled feel. She had not really thought about rougher endeavors, but something about Iori's actions just turned her on. Maybe she had another side of herself she had never thought to explore, or maybe it was just something she liked to do with him.

As they fell more into their activities again, their clothing ended up finding its way off rather quickly. It didn't take both of them long to end up completely naked this time.

This was a nice change of pace, as their first day they didn't even get all of it off.

In front of her, Iori slid his hands down to her breasts to tease them with his fingers, occasionally adding a pinch, which made her squeal, though she sort of liked it, since he wasn't _too_ harsh with it.

Meeting in a kiss again, he traced his hand down, sliding a finger between her legs; he got a rather evil grin on his face given what he felt. Teasing her a little, he slid his finger out to lick it off, only to slide it back. She shivered, kissing him again quickly before looking at him questioningly.

Iori moved so he could lay down, which he did. “Get on me and turn around.”

Athena laughed. “Wait...like...”

He helped position her first over him and then around...so her midsection was facing his head. He had wanted to try this on the first day, but decided to opt for other things instead.

She adjusted herself, facing his member and laughing a bit. She had never done this, but she was more than willing to try, particularly with how much he pleasured her their past time together. She tensed and squealed, however, once she felt his tongue begin to give her long licks from top to bottom.

Iori held her thighs, pushing them apart; her entire womanhood was now in front of him, and he could visibly see how wet she was. He moaned very low in his throat as he leaned forward, his tongue tracing around every part of her, going toward her opening, thrusting inside before he slid it down to swirl around her clit.

Regaining some willpower, she started to tease the tip of his member with her tongue; just starting to experiment with things she thought he might like. Taking him into her mouth further, she began to suck, all while teasing it a little with her tongue at the same time.

Iori groaned in pleasure, stopping what he was doing for a moment and leaning back on the pillow to take it all in. She was doing some rather intense things already, and this was not something he had felt in ages. Closing his eyes and breathing heavily, he thrust his hips lightly toward her, moaning low. One hand ran up and down her back, scratching lightly with his nails.

Athena smiled to herself that she actually got him to stop for a few moments; she continued, using her hand to stroke him and tease him underneath a little bit while she sucked. She tasted a tiny bit of salty liquid already, but continued; she took it as a sign of her actions being perfectly appropriate.

Iori continued to moan, though he managed to lift his head; he used his hands to slide her thighs apart again and went back to licking her, this time slowly from one end to the other. Athena began to shake, her actions becoming uneven as she moaned again herself. He raked his nails down her sides here and there, causing her moans to reach a slightly louder tone.

She actually yelled out in pleasure when she felt him start to tug at her clit with his lips, before biting at it very lightly. This caused her to stop for some moments to moan much louder, her body trembling. It felt incredible; there was a tiny bit of pain, but it was...different.

When he heard her moans reach a loud enough pitch, he would switch over to almost soothing licks, swirling his tongue around it slowly for some time before going back to nipping at it...and alternating like this.

It was almost too much for her to bear; she was trembling harder and soaking wet, and it was only getting worse...or better as the case may be.

Trying to concentrate, she took him into her mouth again, sucking and teasing the tip with her tongue; she could taste him again, and she got the feeling he was going to come at any moment if she kept this up. She wanted to get him too soon; both because both of the other times they had sex he had finished himself off, and also she wanted to sort of finish before she lost all control of herself. Everything he was doing with her own nether regions was about driving her mad.

He brought his tongue back to her opening to lap up everything that was coming from her; it was a _lot_ , given his choice of technique.

He would have to remember this for the future. Given their activities at the time, it didn't occur to him at all that he was actively thinking about future endeavors with her.

Iori began to slow down a bit as he felt her try to pick up her intensity; he started to thrust harder, suddenly unable to concentrate very well, given her wonderful actions and the fact her smell and taste were completely surrounding him. He would occasionally stick his tongue out to lick for a few moments, though he was quite distracted; he decided to just thrust it inside of her since it took a bit less concentration.

When she started to suck quickly at the head, taking him deeper, he began to feel himself start to go; he stopped, trying to move...but she stayed, sucking as he came.

He growled out fairly loudly as it happened, his hand gripping the bed next to him, trying not to actually tear into it. It was all he could do to hold his strength back.

Given he could tear into walls, this was yet another great example of his willpower.

He thrust his hips as she continued to suck, her hand stroking him underneath, until she felt him finish. She let him go, her hand rubbing his extremely muscular leg as she panted, the salty taste of him in her mouth. She found she didn't mind it in the least, though.

Iori was panting, his heart pounding; he had not felt anything that good in ages. The sex with her was wonderful, but his first two times back he just didn't last that long, and taking care of himself felt different; the fact she didn't move away actually tied his stomach in knots, though not unpleasantly.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he continued to roughly rub at her thighs; finally putting his head back up, he scratched at them again, stopping to bite again just a little-trying to hit parts that were not already bruised from the first time-before going back to what he was doing, sliding his tongue deep inside of her as he thrust harder and harder, teasing her clit now and then in between with his lips and teeth.

Trembling, her moans became uneven as she felt him swirl his tongue slowly around her clit after a time; he started sucking it again and that was about all she could take. She finally came-her moans louder than they had been, as he pressed his face into her, his hands roughly massaging her thighs, swallowing everything he could. He did not pull away until he was certain she was finished; he finally leaned back on the pillow as she settled on him. He felt the wetness on his chest from this as she shifted, which sort of gave him a rather intense feeling of satisfaction.

Athena was shivering, and the hair on he neck stood up when she felt him lean up to kiss the small of her back, which was in easy reach.

“Iori...” she said, her voice soft.

He kissed her a bit more, right up and down the spine. They finally separated, her turning around so she could lean under his arm.

She was silent for a bit of time before she turned toward him to sit up when she felt rested. The smell of sex was strong in the room. Smiling, she brushed back some of his sweaty hair.

“I don't know what you did,” she giggled. She had no idea what else to say.

Iori only shrugged, his hand reaching up to stroke her face for a moment before bringing it back down.

Just that action gave Athena flutters. _He's trying. He's trying so hard._

She didn't expect him to ever be nice to anyone else-she'd be surprised-but if he'd open to her just a little bit more that would be enough.

He suddenly sat up, shaking his head. As usual, he started to feel torn. Grabbing a cigarette from the table, he lit it, sliding his legs off the bed and sitting, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Iori?”

He turned toward her. “I'm fine. I think.” He turned back. This was just something he had to get used to.

She crawled toward him, moving to sit on the side of the bed next to him. He smoked the cigarette quickly, as if he was trying to finish it to continue to run away from something. He paused a second-to slide a hesitant hand around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him for a few moments as he sat there. He slid away as he finished, grabbing a towel and nodding toward the shower.

“I'll be back.” He turned without another word.

Athena leaned back on the bed, shivering a couple of times. This had been a rather intense session, and she suspected she'd be more worn out after this one than the other times.

Iori wandered into the shower, putting his hands on the sink as he stared into the mirror. He had turned the shower on and was enjoying the steam for now, and the mirror was beginning to fog up.

He wasn't sure why he didn't invite her in here-it wasn't that there was anything to 'keep secret' about one another's bodies anymore-but he felt somehow this was his sort of private time to unwind.

He finished fairly quickly-he had just gotten one in the morning-and moved over to the sink. Sighing and drinking a glass of water from the tap-the cold felt good on his throat-he stood leaning against it as the water dripped from his body. He tried to empty his mind; he thought that may help him, but it was impossible. It was spinning; feelings about his own mind, feelings about Athena, and of course his current plans to possibly hunt down his enemies before they got a chance to do something worse.

Shaking his head, he grabbed the towel from the door and dried himself as he stepped out; Athena had not moved from the bed yet, and instead had wrapped the sheet around herself to lie there and read one of the books she had started one of her earlier visits.

He nodded toward the bathroom, letting her know it was ready. She got up and walked by him-a hand brushing over his muscular stomach-and after a few moments he heard the sound of the shower going again.

Looking over at the couch, the cat was still curled up, sleeping. He smirked.

“Staying?” He finished drying himself.

The cat looked up at him for a moment before putting her head back down.

He snorted and scratched his head, having some respect for an animal that didn't quite give a shit. He looked over at the empty coffeepot, wanting to make more, but given he was also hungry he debated going out instead. He figured with the storms the way they were any place would be fairly desolate.

In the shower, Athena let the warm water soak into her; she felt pretty incredible right now, though she had a feeling some of her parts would be a bit sore. Iori was not the most gentle, but she _liked_ that-she may have been a generally happy, optimistic and even calm person, but sometimes one doesn't know that they're into something until they actually try it. While she didn't suspect she'd get _too_ kinky, she was surprised that she liked the things that he tried-particularly when he would use his teeth and nails a little.

Shivering at the thought, she was also rather impressed that he could leave her sore and tired with _or_ without getting into actual sex. They had stopped at foreplay today and she didn't feel any less satisfied.

She was falling steadily for him, though. It was more than just the intense sex; the more she was around him, the more-despite the fact they were very different-she simply wanted to be with him. She had to sort of hold back her feelings, as she had no idea where he was mentally.

Finishing the shower rather quickly, she turned it off, grabbed her towel and walked out. Iori had already started to dress.

“Hungry,” he said, pulling on his tank top and trying to find where he threw his boots again; he remembered he tossed them into the corner. Iori often didn't keep his clothing in one spot, except for his black raincoat, his leather duster, and his half-moon shirt.

Athena nodded; mentioning that made her realize that she was quite hungry as well. She hurried to dress herself.

Making sure he set up some food for the cat, he cracked the window in case she wanted to head out, grabbed his collar, cigarettes, and raincoat, and went toward the door. He actually stopped a moment in the musty hallway when she reached him, turning around.

For once, he instigated a kiss with her, his hand running up and down her back firmly as it would. He pushed her slightly against the wall even; she slid her fingers into his hair, falling into the rather intense kiss.

It broke after a few moments, as he touched her face a moment before exhaling deeply and walking quickly toward the stairs, putting a cigarette into his mouth. He hadn't said a word.

She followed, smiling.

\--

“You don't have a favorite place?” Athena walked quickly to keep up; Iori had a habit of walking quickly everywhere. They were already several blocks from the apartment.

He shook his head. “I like to move around.” The place he had his eye on today was a bit of a dank noodle shop, in another corner of some forsaken alley. He had to admit, the food here was pretty damned good for being so out of the way; he hoped tourists wouldn't find out about it, as it was a nice place to go to get away from people. It always amused him how South Town could rebuilt after it's near destruction...only to have most of it fall into some sort of ruin again.

Being run by criminal syndicates did not lend itself to good maintenance.

Pushing his way into the place-it was all counter space-he was pleased to see there were only about two others there, and one of them was slightly drunk. Not bothering to take his coat off, he sat down, Athena sitting next to him after she hung her own jacket up.

The man behind the counter-an older fellow-nodded in greeting, knowing Iori as a quasi-regular. He also knew he didn't like to talk to anyone usually, so he let him be.

Athena inhaled, the smell of oily noodles, broth, and the faint scent of seaweed entering her nostrils; it actually had a bit of a comforting smell. Sort of reminded her of Chin prepping something for them back during their harder training days. The place was rather damp, and it could have been cooler, but the small air unit was clearly on as high as it would go, even drowning out the sound of the small TV in the corner that was on a random news channel.

“You say it's good here?” she asked.

Iori nodded, looking over at her. Thunder rumbled in the distance as he brushed some of his hair back. He looked at Athena a few more moments-she had turned toward her menu-before being distracted by the owner bringing them the requisite tea; he also put a cup of coffee in front of Iori, who didn't even have to ask for it.

After they both placed their orders, they were silent for awhile; Iori breaking out his smokes and lighting one as the thunder rumbled again. The storm was close, though not directly overhead yet.

“When was the last time it rained this much?” Athena asked absently.

Iori shrugged. “Been awhile.” He snorted laughter. “Keeps people inside. I don't mind.”

Athena shook her head, a slight smile on her face. Looking at him, he was hunched over on the stool, the cigarette in his finger as he stared absently at a few things on the other side of the counter. She sensed a sort of...contentment from him she hadn't felt in awhile, though it was by no means perfect.

“Coming back over?” he asked, turning toward her after exhaling.

“You don't mind?”

He shook his head, sparing her a small smile.

Their food came and they set into it in silence; Iori was right, the place was quite good despite looking like one of the dumpiest noodle bars one might find.

They had gotten through a few more bites when he heard the door open behind them, the rather hard rain and thunder punctuated by two pairs of shoes hitting the linoleum floor. Iori sighed, tensing up at the sound, clearly unhappy that more people decided to come into his usually desolate place at this moment.

“Too much rain. Ugh.”

“You insisted that we come out here.”

“I had heard there was a lead.”

The voices were a man and a young woman...and they both recognized them. Almost on cue, the young woman's voice spoke up.

“Athena?”

Iori sighed, finishing off a few more bites before glancing over his shoulder, his usual glowering look on his face.

Standing there, in rain jackets and in various cases of damp disarray, were Yuri Sakazaki and Robert Garcia.

“Yuri? Guys?” Athena blinked, finishing her bite and wiping her mouth. “What...why are you here? Isn't your place all the way across town?” She didn't know why they would come to _this_ out of the way place.

Yuri shook some water out of her hair, looking between the two of them, before blinking and shaking her head as if she couldn't believe what she saw. “We had some problems at the dojo and around the bar.” She looked around. “We were only here because it was the closest place we could find. The rain got really bad. Apparently something was going on at a building down here, but we couldn't find it.”

Robert the entire time had been looking at Iori, also with a very puzzled look on his face. He looked back at Athena, and then back at Iori again, who was lifting more noodles into his mouth, seemingly ignoring them.

“Why...I guess you guys are meeting about...something?” he finally said.

It was Iori who answered after swallowing his bite and looking over his shoulder. “We're eating,” he grunted, turning back around. Hunched over his food with his long jacket and his slightly damp hair in his eyes, he looked mildly disturbed; most sane people would have likely backed away from him at this point. Particularly since he had threatened them several times in past tournaments for getting in his way, though he never did carry through with the worst of them.

Athena had to stifle laughter. While part of her wanted him to attempt to be friendly, this was something she knew may have to come after a very long time. _If_ it happened. She'd love him to be completely at peace one day but she didn't expect it...and would take any tiny victory she could.

Robert held his hands up, taking a step back. “Ahh, yeah. So here's the story. We were closed up and Ryo caught a guy trying to sneak in. He startled him, chased him out and roughed him up. The guy didn't seem concerned though-he went on about 'getting lucky this time' and ran off. Ryo went after him, but he was gone. All we could find was a piece of paper with a couple of addresses. One was the bar, and another was down here, but all we saw was a building with a locked door. It was an old restaurant or something. Nothing important.”

Iori finished his noodles, slurped down the tea, and sighed, spinning around on the stool. He lit a cigarette, exhaling in their direction. His mood had not lightened.

“They're looking for areas of power,” he grumbled.

“Areas...of power? They?” Yuri looked confused.

Athena decided to speak up to spare Iori the act of having to socialize. “Like the Gate. Only after all of the things went rampant...spirits waking up...multidimensional rifts...” She took a sip of her own tea. “Remember last tournament. The group.”

Yuri scratched her head. “Yes. They weren't all defeated. And then recently that... _thing_ being destroyed managed to cause some havoc.”

“Those from the Past are still around. Trust me,” Iori did not look happy at this turn of events. He also wondered offhandedly why they had such a stupid name. “I don't know if you've noticed the extra attacks happening around.” He clenched his hand several times.

“Well...yeah, I figured it was standard crap from all of the crazy that usually happens after these tournaments,” Robert replied. And he was not wrong, the tournaments never did pass without _something_ going terribly off-the-rails. It almost amused him the one they could call the most 'normal' was the one where a man destroyed his own aircraft carrier and came back to life some months later.

“They lost members but they're on their same mission, I think,” Athena replied.

Iori leaned back, taking another drag of the cigarette, nodding. “I ran into some.”

Yuri cringed, knowing that they probably were not questioned very hard, if at all, before meeting a gruesome fate.

“Iori, Kyo, and Chizuru had tracked Orochi down before it could regain power, but...they have ways of still trying to unseal things. And who knows what along with it. If that thing came out, that held Orochi's soul...along with apparently other things...” Athena trailed off. Her sensitive psychic powers had been bothering her lately. “They were able to...tap into Orochi's presence. I can confirm that.” She didn't go into the rest.

“They want everything to burn,” Iori said, raising his hand and allowing tiny purple flames to dance on his fingertips. He looked at them for a moment. “And before you decide to be smartasses, it's my job to stop that, despite what you may think.”

“Hey...you guys did straighten everything out before.” Robert gulped. He was an amazingly skilled and strong fighter, feared by about every gang in South Town-but anyone who was anyone in the tournament knew to play it _very_ carefully around Iori Yagami. Most people thought was just as likely within thirty seconds of meeting someone who crossed him to punch them to the ground and try to stomp on their head as he was to shove them out of the way and ignore them.

Iori found that a _bit_ extreme, as he'd wait until they laid a hand on him first.

Athena looked at the two of them. “So why this place? Was it the address?”

Yuri shook her head. “It was just the closest place to get out of the rain.”

Putting his boot on the rung of the stool, Iori blew out another smoke stream. “I'd try something here before you leave.”

They looked at him as if he had just sprouted tentacles. Athena snorted laughter. “Do you guys have that address?”

“Here,” Robert handed it to her. She read it over and looked at Iori. “Maybe we...”

Iori stood, looking at her, and noticing that she had finished her food during the discussion. He stubbed the cigarette out in the plastic ashtray on the counter before collecting his smokes.

Athena smiled, standing to get her coat. She looked over to Yuri and Robert.

“Thanks. We'll see again.”

“Please,” Yuri said. “I'd love to...chat.” It was fairly obvious that she was _more_ than curious about her choice of company right now.

Iori snorted, pushing past them. He turned to offer them a curt nod in farewell, however.

Athena shrugged, a grin still on her face, as she took off after him. She didn't see Robert and Yuri look at each other with looks that went between confused, amused, and back to confused again.

Catching up with him, she moved next to him as he was clearly heading toward the address. He looked down at her as they walked. “You might be able to sense something,” he said. “I hope I don't.”

She knew what that meant; him sensing something would likely mean the presence of things he'd rather avoid. “You were...actually somewhat less hostile,” she said.

Iori rolled his eyes. As they walked, he suddenly took his free hand that was not holding his cigarette and placed it on the back of her neck, rubbing it firmly, their walk slowing somewhat. This surprised her; being in public at all...though 'public' at the moment was a series of alleyways with maybe one or two people able to see, if they had even bothered to look. He eventually slid his hand down between her shoulders...though kept it there as they maneuvered under any sort of cover they could as the sky lit up.

Athena blinked, her stomach fluttering a second. She knew he'd never do this in an _actual_ public place, but she counted it as a small step.

“If I start to sense something there, I'm leaving,” he said.

She nodded, knowing what he meant. Neither of them wanted a repeat of the incident two weeks before.

His free hand tugged at the collar he wore; she knew that the collar, besides fashion, had a personal meaning. It symbolized the bonds that were forever kept on his family. She had actually found this out in one of their small discussions.

They walked in silence-his hand staying where it was between her shoulders-when they finally reached the building. Looking around, Iori scratched at his chest, feeling his heart start to pound. Athena could see the slight distress on his face.

“Want me to go in?” she said. Seeing how he was clearly uncomfortable told her what she needed to know.

He nodded, deciding to stand watch in the doorway. Trying the handle of the heavy back door, it was locked; he was able to kick it off its hinges with surprising ease, causing Athena to jump at the sudden noise, though she laughed after...mostly at the small shrug that he gave her. She stepped up inside, turning around.

“I'll be back shortly. I'm just going to focus and see if I can sense anything.”

He nodded, looking at her a moment before turning around and checking the area. He turned back to watch as she went into the dusty and dilapidated old building, the only things inside being broken tables, worn chairs, and the like. He even spotted an old jukebox in the corner; thinking for a moment that it was a pity it was allowed to go into ruin, as he had a soft spot for anything music related. For a second he considered liberating it for his apartment as a centerpiece and seeing if he could repair it, but that would require him going inside.

Shoving another cigarette into his mouth, he lit it, leaning by the door frame as he waited, hoping he would calm down. He knew she could take care of things if necessary, and he didn't want to risk some power setting him off.

_Something's here._

He continued to stand watch.

Athena came out perhaps about ten minutes later. She had a little dust on her, but was otherwise fine. She inhaled, the rainy air-despite South Town not having the cleanest around-being a welcome relief to the stuffy, musty place. Thunder continued to rumble, another storm seemingly about to blow in.

“Definitely something here. But I'm not sure what.”

Iori nodded, lighting another cigarette. “Let's just keep an eye on it,” he replied, blowing a stream of smoke out.

Athena coughed once, dusting her clothes off. She was taken by surprise when his hand reached out to wipe the dust from her face, pausing to run his thumb over her lips lightly. He turned to start walking back to his apartment.

She smiled, pulling the hood up on her jacket and heading back out into the storm, reaching Iori quickly. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

The tiny smile that formed may have only been noticeable by her, but she was the only person who needed to see it.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I admit, I totally made an Another Day reference, thinking of the Soiree vs. Iori fight in this one. (The first time he met Soiree, within roughly half a minute he had punched him in the face and tried to stomp on his head. Never change, Iori.)


	6. Chapter 6

He stirred at the sound.

It was a scraping, squeaking sound...reminiscent of, perhaps, a window opening after someone had just got done trying to sneak up a set of slightly rusty iron stairs.

Iori's window was awfully creaky; the intense rain had also caused the wood to swell, making it harder to open, and the fire escape wasn't exactly silent, either. Despite the extra noise-the air conditioner mostly-he still heard, and sat up quickly in bed. He had drifted off fairly early this night-probably around midnight-reading a random book he had grabbed from his shelf, which he did enjoy from time to time.

Maybe it was also that 'sixth sense' that he had honed from years of martial arts training.

The figure climbing in was an average sized male, and when he heard Iori stir, he looked up at him in panic; scrambling to get through the window so he could unsheathe the short, ninja style blade he wore on his hip. He was _clearly_ there for malicious purposes.

Iori snarled, leaping out of bed. The man did manage to get through the window...but did not get up fast enough.

Jumping up and over the table that was in the way, Iori reached the man quickly; he followed by bringing his foot down directly onto the side of his head as he struggled to stand via a large, overhead axe kick. He felt it connect.

There was a horrid sound as the bones splintered and his head was split open against the floor; Iori had brought an enormous amount of anger-fueled strength down on him, even if he was slightly clumsy and not particularly exact in his strike due to just having woken up. Blood splattered out around and his body began to twitch in death, with more blood steadily oozing from his head, slowly spreading around on the floor. The man barely had time to utter a yell.

Iori growled, half wondering who the fuck this was trying to break into his place and kill him, and half glad that the concrete floor was painted, so the blood wouldn't stain and this mess would be fairly easy to clean up.

He kicked him over onto his back and squinted down, using the outside alley lights as illumination. The man was unrecognizable now; his head misshapen and his face smashed in; Iori had hit him harder than he first thought. He picked the mangled corpse up by the neck in his iron grip, threw the window open and dragged him out; he saw four others down there, staring up at him. One had started to ascend the fire escape when he thought the first man might be in trouble when he was up there too long.

Iori flung the lifeless sack-the head leaking its contents everywhere-down at them, and before they could even react he dashed down two flights of the fire escape steps and jumped.

He came down with his feared back kick to one's head; his neck shattered as easily as could be from Iori's power mixed with the height of the jump; the only thing that spared him a total decapitation was that the hit was shallow, though he still felt the back of his skull cave in despite that. His claw-like hand tore out another man's throat; before they could even realize it, five were now two, and c _learly_ regretting their life choices at the moment.

It took the man whose throat he tore out a few moments to expire; he may have not even realized he was dead yet even as the blood gushed from his neck, spreading out around him.

The people they worked for-their group had seemed like a good idea, the man in the sweater and the black haired woman had been pretty convincing-hadn't quite told them what exactly this Iori guy could do when they sent them on their little initiation trip, which was to try to kill him in his sleep. Five of them, one of him. They knew South Town had a healthy amount of strong fighters, and reckoned that sending several would give them a better shot. They had lightened up on these attacks lately-they hadn't been working out-but decided to hit Iori on his home turf.

Now they were facing down an insane looking man with red hair, dressed in nothing but the pair of jeans that he had been sleeping in, blood spattered all over his body. They weren't told that Iori Yagami had been inhumanly strong, and clearly mad. They saw the man with his pulverized neck, the one whose throat was ripped out, and the man whose skull was crushed-the eye hanging from its socket _not_ making things any better-and realized he had done this in roughly the span of one minute. They weren't told that his hands were stronger than steel, able to tear a person apart as easily as someone would tear a piece of paper in half.

He started to walk toward them; they noticed that the broken glass and debris in the alley didn't seem to cut him as he walked over it. If it did, he simply wasn't bothered. They didn't know which was worse.

As he closed in on them-a blood-chilling yell ringing through the alley-they uttered the most pathetic screams of their lives as he tore into them with his deadly hands, ripping and tearing.

It wasn't even a challenge. He left the two men's corpses in a ruinous shape under the fire escape.

Looking at his blood covered hands, he wiped them on his jeans; they were a rusty red color that half hid the blood. He held his hand out; the drizzle would not be enough to clean him, as he was fairly well splattered.

He started to collect himself to begin to dispose of the bodies when he saw another shadow leap in; another man-fairly plain looking with shaggy brown hair, who drew a sword.

“Hiding?” Iori said, as he launched an attack. The man deftly dodged.

Iori smiled evilly. _Finally,_ he thought. _They sent someone other than a sack of meat to take me on._

“Come on, then.” He took his trademark stance; his hands up in their clawed form; his first two fingers slightly more extended, making it easy for him to strike, dig in, and then hold the opponent there so all five fingers could rend and tear.

He reckoned they saved their stronger, more elite fighters; it made sense to do so. If you could take someone out by several pieces of trash, why bother risking your better people? It was clever enough, trying to take him out in his sleep, but they didn't count on him being particularly sharp even while in slumber. He was probably sent as a final backup...or perhaps as someone to observe how they did.

It didn't matter.

The man was very agile; able to dodge Iori's slashing hands and long-reaching kicks fairly well; Iori was trying to stay out of the way of the sword, which had raked across him a few times. It was light, but enough to cause slight wounds.

He was clever; he knew Iori could kill him in seconds if he got close-he was observing, but was told to not interfere until the end, so he better knew what he was going against-so he opted to try to go on the defensive until he could get a clean hit. It was probably the smartest thing he could have done.

Dodging each others attacks, Iori was coming up with clawing strikes, sweeps, and kicks, trying to get him to make a mistake. After taking another blow on the side-this one biting deeper than he'd have liked-he decided to feint one way, but then come around with an overhead, clawing attack...which struck the top of his sword, where there was the blunted edge. Before the man could act, Iori's iron grip closed and he twisted his wrist, snapping the blade in two and tossing it aside.

Being surprised at this maneuver, and now being stuck with no reach, he tried for a killing stab to the chest...which Iori dodged, coming around with a kick that caught him in the jaw. It wasn't full force, but it was still enough to break bone, causing him to spit blood and stumble, groaning from the intense pain, breathing heavily. He seemed mixed between dazed and starting to panic.

He misjudged the stab due to the half-length blade, and that was his downfall.

Iori grabbed him by his neck; holding him up high above his head with one hand, he squeezed and threw him down with an enormous amount of strength. He hit the ground with a sickening _thud,_ practically bouncing _._ If he hadn't died from that-and given Iori dug his fingers into his throat and spiked him down _hard,_ that was highly unlikely-he was _definitely_ dead after Iori slammed his heel down onto his temple just to make sure. He could tell from the feel that his head had already been damaged heavily from the throw and the final blow had been likely unnecessary overkill. Blood oozed everywhere onto the asphalt.

Standing back, panting, he checked himself out in the window of one of the buildings nearby. He had some light wounds and the one moderate one, but he would be okay; had taken much, much worse in his time. The bigger one could have been much worse if he had misjudged; that blade had been wicked sharp, and he counted himself a little lucky he was able to grasp it the way he did.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket-he had slept with the pack, as he would sometimes when he'd just fall asleep on his bed with the music on-and lit it, blowing out a stream of smoke. As usual, he looked like he had just wandered out of a slaughterhouse, though he had looked much worse.

He was quite pleased the last guy actually tested him, as he found the amount of fodder they'd throw at him in their desperate attempt to take them down rather boring. Sure, it was amusing for a few moments, but at the end of the day he'd rather have a real fight.

Many suspected this is why he didn't kill Kyo after all, given he was one of the few people to provide him with a _real_ challenge. He had more than one chance to...but he always ended up not doing it. Kyo was the only man he could consider his equal.

Well, _almost_. He did still have a slight lead on him, so to speak, but he was willing to overlook a couple of them due to the situations that came up.

Smoking his cigarette, he looked up the escape to his open window, realizing that he left his phone upstairs...and that he had a bit of a mess to clean up from the first man.

Sighing, he tossed the broken and blood-soaked bodies in a pile before charging up his brutally hot, purple flames. He figured he would leave behind ash for them to find, though there was still some spare blood spattered around they alley if they happened to run into that before the rain washed it away.

When it was through, he took another drag of the smoke and proceeded to head back up the fire escape and back through his window, clicking on the light. Any everyday person seeing him at this point would have thought him to be completely and utterly insane with the way he was carrying on as if nothing had happened.

The blood pool was rather large, as head wounds tended to bleed a lot and he had done a rather nasty number on him. There were some teeth and a couple of other spare grotesque looking bits around which tossed to the iron stairs outside and quickly burned, though it was _mostly_ just blood, as his blow was not even of his full power.

He decided to check his phone...and found a missed call.

_She'll probably be here soon._

Athena's psychic powers did allow her to sense danger fairly well, and given that they were basically somehow linked-ever since that first time, and _especially_ now-it was a foregone conclusion.

He knew it took her about twenty or so minutes to get there, and he didn't know when she left; he decided to try to clean up the best he could before she arrived, sparing her the sight. Heading into the closet in the corner-where he kept odds and ends-he found a mop and bucket. Iori wasn't exactly a guy who was heavy on cleaning, as he didn't have much to get dirty; but he would occasionally push a mop around the room every so often, since he at least _tried_ to keep his grim, spartan apartment somewhat livable. 

Filling it with hot water and washing his hands and arms in the process, he pushed a few things out of the way and got to cleaning up the congealing, sticky mess. He was still well covered with it-he had washed his hands, at least-but he'd take a shower afterward. The blood had spread in about a meter radius around, and it was quite stubborn; though it would not stain anything. Some was on the walls, as well.

As he cleaned, his mind wandered; he was becoming much more adept at controlling himself in battle. For him to actually snap, it took a concentrated effort of them channeling power directly into him. He could even let himself loose just a little on his own in combat.

If he could learn to control his power...he could do unimaginable things. All of the strengths-enhancing his already ridiculous strength, speed, and endurance...without trying to murder _everything_ in his vicinity, would all be his.

Pausing to light a cigarette, he continued. He took a small break to clean the wall off; this had a fair bit of spatter-his face had been toward it when he smashed him-but it came clean soon enough.

He was about three-quarters of the way finished when he heard the knock.

“Yeah,” he answered. “It's open.” He heard the rain pick up outside. _Could have started earlier. I'd have maybe been showered by then._

Athena walked in, sucking in her breath. “I...knew something was wrong.” She paled slightly at the sight, though after that one horrible night in the alley, this was fairly tame.

He nodded. “There were more. I burned them all afterward. One was pretty skilled.”

She looked at him as she over to the bed...deciding to glance quickly over at the area out of morbid curiosity. It was almost clean, though the water in the bucket was red, and he was spattered all over. She then noticed the wounds on him and cringed.

“It was bad, I guess. You okay?” She sounded surprisingly calm. She knew Iori, and if he wasn't in a panicked condition, he was usually just fine.

He just looked at her, clenching his fist as he kept cleaning the rest up. “They sent six. One made it in as you see. The rest I went outside to take care of. The one inside got stuck coming in.”

She nodded, shivering. Putting her arms around herself, she looked around. Her senses were quite overloaded right now, given up her ability to pick up heavy negative energy. 

Iori finally finished-he emptied the bucket and refilled it with clean water after rinsing the mop once-and went over things one more time, and finally cleaning up the blood he had tracked around the place.

“I'll be out,” he said, tossing his bloody jeans off to the side near the washer and nodding toward the bathroom as he grabbed a towel.

There wasn't any trace left of the battle, but she could still somewhat tell something went wrong tonight. She poked her head out the window, seeing a few blood droplets and smears on the fire escape that the small bit of fire missed, though it wasn't much, and the harder rain that was coming would soon wash it away.

She noticed the book on his bed, seeing that he was probably reading before he went to sleep. _He was actually just trying to have a calm night for once. It's like violence follows him._

After relaxing for a couple of minutes, she saw the coffee pot was empty; she decided to make more. It was late, to be sure, but she know Iori would drink it at random times of night. She managed to remember where he kept everything; Iori's apartment was more chaotic at times than a dorm room. As someone who was quite neat and methodical-though not to excessive levels, as she had some clutter around herself-it was occasionally an amusing puzzle to figure out.

She had just gotten done and pressed the button when he walked out, a towel around his neck. His hair was wet and plastered to his head, but the blood was gone. The wounds stood out more now that his body was clean; red gashes around his torso and arms. They did not seem to be bleeding, though one looked a bit deep and long, and she didn't like that.

Iori grabbed a clean pair of jeans and threw them on, moving a few things back to where they were. He smiled slightly at the coffee, walking over to get some.

Athena stood in front of him. “Hang on,” she said. She placed her hands on his torso, closing her eyes.

“They'll heal. You don't need to push yourself.”

She didn't listen; it wasn't too much of a push...just a small one. Focusing, she just wanted to help along the deeper one; at almost half an inch deep, and longer than she'd have liked, she was imagining how painful it could be...even though she knew Iori wouldn't show it. He grit his teeth, feeling the power seep into him as he clenched his fists. His heart started racing again...though just as soon as it started, it stopped.

While the wounds weren't fully healed, the largest one looked a little smaller, and more closed up. It _did_ feel better. He moved his arms around before looking at her.

“Thanks,” he said, smoothing down her hair with one hand. She looked a little worn, so he took her over to the bed to lie down.

“How can you do those blasts of yours and not have it tire you out?”

“Those are easy,” she chuckled. “Okay, the biggest ones aren't. Those...well, you saw that one day. But healing is more difficult.”

He nodded, not quite understanding how it all worked, but taking her word for it. She practically collapsed the day she healed him in the alley; he remembered they were lying there for a very long time. It was he that had to escort her...despite being the one who had almost died.

Grabbing coffee for himself and her, he set the cup on the table and sat on the sofa, snatching his cigarettes and lighting one, slinging his leg up onto the table. He leaned back, his arms across either side, staring at the ceiling.

Athena took a sip of the coffee, leaning over on the bed and smiled softly. “Hard night.”

He snorted laughter. “I guess I pissed them off after the last bunches I slaughtered. They seem to have it out for me now.” He blew a stream of smoke straight out. “Let them.”

“You don't think they'll try...”

“They probably will. I'll deal with them again.” He looked directly at her. “I don't plan on dying.”

She smiled sadly. She wished that this would all end soon, though she knew, when it came to Iori, nothing would ever be completely normal.

“Can I stay?”

He nodded. “I think they learned their lesson.” It was almost a shame the rain had likely washed away the piles of ash that were out there. There wasn't anything left of the sorry bastards they had sent after him, except for the few remnants he had tossed outside that had come from the man he had killed in his room.

Athena slid off the bed to join him on his ragged, yet surprisingly comfortable couch. It had the scent of cigarettes permanently entrenched in the fabric, but it didn't bother her at all. She had grown more than accustomed to smoke during her time here, given Iori went through a pack a day, if not more.

Iori crushed out his cigarette, pulling her over under his arm. He seemed quite content to sleep right there on the couch that night. Athena grabbed the sheet-the bed was rather close, pulling it over herself.

He looked down and watched her as she drifted off, a tiny bit of peace finally hitting him.

–

Snapping awake, Iori rubbed his head, having ended up with a few more disturbing dreams that he didn't remember; they often just left him a little exhausted, feeling like his blood had boiled overnight.

_They're closing in again._

He knew this from his feelings. They tried to break in last night; he should have known as much.

Athena was still asleep under his arm, still curled up on her side with the sheet thrown over her. It was quite chill in the room now, as he had neglected to leave the window cracked open, which he usually did.

Taking his fingers, he lightly stroked her hair back as she slept. He did it sort of on instinct; he didn't even realize he was doing it until he actually thought about it.

She stirred, waking up with a small smile on her face. “Iori?”

He shrugged.

“I didn't expect that.”

“I just...felt like it.” He snorted, a slightly grumpy look on his face. He stood up to go take care of the coffee. Athena giggled, realizing that he had put a lot more work into his surly act in the past than he was now. Oh, she knew with _other_ people it wasn't an act...and that sometimes with her it wasn't, but she was learning to tell the difference.

She notice the cat outside and cracked the window. Iori walked over to scratch the tiny damp thing behind the ears; she started purring immediately. After a few moments, he went to go get her usual food, letting her eat in the corner today so she could stay in out of the rain again.

“She left?” Athena asked.

“On her own. She does that too. Guess she found somewhere else to hang out. Was glad she wasn't here.”

She nodded, frowning; the poor thing may not have lived through the night. But all was well in the end.

Iori poked a cigarette into the corner of his mouth and lit it; inhaling deeply, he relaxed. The first smoke of the day was always one of the best, calming his nerves after a particularly restless night.

Athena could see it on him, too; she knew how he looked after having one of his bad nights. His eyes had some slight dark rings under them, which to most people gave him a menacing appearance. Even she had thought so...but now she just felt for him when she saw them, since she knew why he had them.

Thinking for a moment, she stood up to walk over as he leaned on the counter, apparently staring at the coffeemaker as it dripped coffee into the pot, the cigarette dangling from his mouth. Sliding her hands around his waist, she rest her head between his shoulders again.

She felt him tense a moment...and then relax. His hand slid over hers, holding them there. She decided to take some incentive, boosting herself up a little to kiss the back of his neck; he moaned a second, letting her do it, enjoying how it felt.

He stuffed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the counter when it was done and turned to face her.

As always he was pulled several ways at once. He had grown more fond of her over the past days, though he wasn't quite considering anything more than what they had. What they _did_ have was rather nice. They had seen each other a few times since the day they examined the restaurant, and one of those times they had gotten rather intense again. He liked how it just sort of happened. It didn't feel forced.

This is what also sort of kept him at a distance, since he wasn't sure he wanted it to get too...comfortable.

This time, he didn't resist; he went to kiss her for the first time since she arrived last night. She fell into it, happy he instigated. Nipping at her lower lip as he would and sucking it for a short bit, he pulled apart before he started to get too into things, as he sort of needed to go do a little investigating today after the night before.

He looked at her for a moment though, his thumb tracing over her mouth. He then reached up and removed the necklace with the guitar pick that he wore, sliding it over her neck. He turned without a word and started pouring the coffee as if he had just given her the morning paper that he was done with.

Athena reached down to take a look. It was a gray pick, fairly thick; she wasn't sure what he had used it for, but she knew he played a little guitar as well. It had been made into a necklace with a steel chain running through it. It sort of carried his scent, as well, given he wore it most of the time.

She beamed at him when he handed her the coffee. Iori's expression was fairly well neutral.

“Really?” she asked.

He just nodded.

Fingering the necklace, she smiled down at it. For her, this meant about everything, since she knew that he was not the type to do something like this without some meaning behind it. Even if it was minor, and even if he wasn't ready to do anything...serious, it was sort of his way of letting her know a few things.

Seemingly not even thinking much of the topic, Iori looked out the window at the rain clearing up again, though noticing the sky was still dark. “I know a place we can go today. It's kinda near the place we checked out. I want to see it again.”

“You...feel okay to do it?”

He nodded. “Bastards are up to something.”

“True,” she said. Iori started to gather his stuff up. After all of the bullshit, he would enjoy nothing more today but to stay here, toss her on the bed, and stick his head back between her legs again for awhile before letting her ride him, but he couldn't. Not with everything going on. That sort of pissed him off too, and he had a feeling if he did find any of them poking around they would be very sorry.

He looked at her for another moment, making sure his brain was doing the right thing. He sighed and shook his head.

Athena looked at him as he finished dressing, wondering what was on his mind. The necklace sat against her chest in an almost comforting manner.

“Thank you,” she said to him, touching the necklace.

Giving her the slightly sad smile that he would, he touched her under the chin as he walked by.

It was enough for her.

–

It was now evening, and after eating at the old, slightly decrepit bar he had brought them to, they had poked again around the restaurant; Iori going inside this time as well.

They had determined it was indeed the site of some sort of power vein or ley line. After Athena had asked around from a few people who noticed more people hanging around there, she knew that was probably going to be the site of something big and not particularly good happening.

No one knew what, but given it had to do with Those from the Past and their followers, it probably had to do something with summoning entities, opening gates, or otherwise causing some sort of chaos; after Verse's defeat, things were certainly more chaotic than they have been.

Iori grunted, lighting up a cigarette. While the night was overcast still, the rain had let up for some time...though it was still damp and stifling. Pushing back some of his sweat-soaked hair, he leaned by the wall and exhaled, looking around.

“They'll be here tonight, then.”

“I think so. They...probably attacked you to try to get rid of you so they could go more unimpeded. I'm convinced they are going to try whatever they were now. There will probably be a lot of them.” For a second she hesitated, but the slid her arm up onto his bare shoulder. He had left his rain jacket back at home. “Do you...feel okay?”

He looked over at her, her touch comforting. “Don't know. Maybe.”

She nodded, fiddling with the necklace again.. She somehow found herself messing around with it often. She wasn't sure why, but when he had given it to her it had gave her a feeling that she wasn't sure she had felt before.

“Do you want to wait?”

He nodded. “We can go to the top of one of the buildings here and wait it out. Can see from up there.”

“Don't forget something,” she said, tapping her head.

He smirked. “You can sense them further away than me. I can only tell if they're dealing with Orochi.”

She nodded. “I let Yuri know there may be trouble down on their end. They mentioned their place was one of the addresses they had found.”

He nodded. He imagined they could deal with some common cultists, even if they also lacked his willingness to kill.

Iori simply paced around on the roof, smoking. He was not meant for staking out; he wanted them to get there so he could take care of them already. Even if they had some stronger people with them, he knew he could take them, and Athena, he knew, could fire off enormous amounts of power if needed anyway.

Checking her phone, she looked over at him. “Robert had told me they hadn't run into anything weird yet tonight. Nothing beyond what they usually do.”

He grunted. “They'll be there. If there's some sort of energy or something they want, that is.”

She nodded. Watching him, Iori was like a caged animal right now. She could feel the malice rising again, and she normally did not feel it at these levels with him. Even on those hard days he recently had, it had a bit of a different feel. Then, it was more confusion and rage mixed with a sort of desperation.

This time, it felt like almost the previous tournament after Ash had stolen his powers. He was clearly rearing to let loose on these people; he felt like he wanted to end everything, here, tonight...and was angry that he likely wouldn't be able to, given that they both doubted _any_ major players would be there this night, let alone all of them.

“Iori...” she said, tentatively.

He looked over at her, his hand opening and closing, as he shoved another cigarette into his mouth. “I'm fine,” he said, though his eyes looked dark. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled.

After what seemed to be forever-Iori practically lighting a new cigarette off of the butt of the old one-there seemed to be some noises coming from near the restaurant. It sounded like a scuffle of a fairly large amount of people.

Looking at one another, they both took off down the stairs on the side of the building, both of them moving rather quickly.

They heard people in three areas; inside, some around the other side in the large parking lot...and another group down the way of the alley.

“Take the alley,” Iori said. “I'll get in there. We'll go toward the lot after.”

She nodded, running toward, her hands already getting a soft, pale purple glow, which spread to her body.

Iori blinked, watching for a moment as the glow grew stronger and she turned the corner. He turned to go inside, noticing there were only a couple of people in there at the moment. Surprised he was there, they ran at him, not knowing who he was until they got too close...where they saw who it was.

They didn't stop in time as he quickly dispatched them, their bodies collapsing to the ground with massive wounds torn into their flesh as they gushed blood onto the floor, where the dry wood drank it up rather quickly.

Not seeing anyone else at a quick glance, he ran back out...only to hear Athena's yell and see her actually seem to leap and hover into the air...

...and an enormous light purple beam fire out of her hands and fill the alley at the other end.

Just like that, any footsteps were stopped cold. He blinked, smiling. She waved to him, signaling that she was going to continue that way; he nodded...checking the alley quickly to see what happened.

Trash cans were blown asunder, an entire dumpster had been overturned, and he had lost track of where all of the unconscious men had been blown to. Most of them had gone over the gate in the back.

He shook his head, still smiling...and _somehow_ managing to curb his bloodthirst long enough to not try to find and kill the men she had rendered out cold.

He moved onto the lot as originally planned. He knew that she would not run into any issues with more cultists; after that blast, he imagined they could send twenty men after her and it wouldn't have mattered. He had felt one of those blasts; while he was able to absorb it...it had lasting impressions, he knew all too well. 

Getting to the lot-which was far enough away that he didn't hear as much going on now-he waited around, but did not see anyone yet. Scanning the place, there were a few old trucks that likely hadn't seen use in awhile and were simply parked and abandoned, a couple of dumpsters, and a lot of trash. The abandoned building seemed to be a sort of place of business; the place was likely one of those public lots to park at before it decayed, like so many things did in this part of South Town.

He decided to kick the door in on the building to poke around inside, just in case. It was dark, dusty, musty, and had clearly not been opened in years; it was simply a couple of desks and that was it. Anything that may have been somewhat valuable had long been stripped away by vagrants.

Satisfied, he stepped out...and was greeted by a group of their enemies; it was clearly, judging by their robes, higher placed ones.

Iori stared ahead at the people. All of them fairly powerful; mystical powers were involved, for sure. He could feel what they were doing. He knew what they wanted him to do. The lanky blonde man or the quiet girl weren't there, nor any of the others he recognized, but these were definitely more of the elite.

He struggled, his blood boiling. Squinting ahead, he saw one of them smiling.

_They're...doing it..._

Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes, focusing. Focusing on the rage, the power, and everything. His heart was pounding, and his blood rushing in his ears as it would; his muscles contracted and twisted. It actually _felt_ like they were gaining strength, though it was agonizing. He opened and closed his deadly hands, knowing that soon they would be plunging into...something, and likely slick with red afterward.

His eyes were still closed as he felt the power surround him. He didn't understand, however, why they wanted to set him off now...with them in the vicinity.

Before his mind went, however...it hit him. He knew what they wanted him to do.

_No...not now...not now...not that..._

The man in the coat directed another blast of bluish light toward him. Iori's mouth grew sticky, the saliva forming more to a foam. He went to one knee, putting his hand up to his mouth. Blood oozed out as he spat it on the ground. He somehow had the state of mind to wipe his hand off and put it over his face, seemingly trying to physically hold himself together.

Several more men came from the side. After that, Iori faintly heard more soft footsteps coming back around at this time...where he had originally came from.

_No...!!_

_Athena..._

She came around, seeing what happened and immediately started charging up a ball of energy; this was a fairly quick, smaller one that she fired toward the new group as she ran toward them; two were blown several feet back and knocked out as she charged another, flinging it at three more as they were knocked silly. Ordinary everyday people did not hope to stand against her concentrated beams of powerful psychic energy; she barely had to exert herself for them. It was fellow ki-users that she had to be much more careful with.

“Iori!!” she shouted, trying to then concentrate her power to soothe him; she thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to overtake his curse; she felt the power coming off of the others, and rather than risk a giant ki battle, she decided on that moment to try to fight their power this way. She stopped roughly a quarter of the way toward the other group, in front of him.

Iori felt it all boil over; his rage, his cursed blood. His breathing grew heavier...and he began to snarl.

Alas, while she could render people out in an instant, heal wounds, and do countless other things...her psychic energy was not able to control the Riot of the Blood, at least this far into it.

Raising his head, his eyes were a bloody red color; the pupils re-formed into un-natural shapes. He tried to yell at her to move; he tried to scream at her to run, to get away and to not come back, but he could not form the words. The only thing that came from his lips was a tiny bit of blood-speckled foam.

His world went black for a moment, as it would.

Going to his knees with one hand over his face, he dug the fingers of his other hand into the hard pavement, his strength reaching it's fevered, inhuman levels as the rage finally overtook him, his vision returning bit by bit as the moments passed in what felt like slow motion. His heart pounded at a rate that would render a regular human being dead in an instant.

Iori slowly raised his head, looked straight at everyone, and _grinned._

The cultists-the ones who had no idea what to expect-took a step back; he looked _terrifying._

Athena stared at him, realizing she was in his path, as she attempted to concentrate a bit more...to no avail. There was no use in moving; she wouldn't be able to fast enough. The lot was large, but he could zip around it in no time in this form, despite being a ways back. She didn't even have time to charge a bolt toward him to knock him out; the world seemed to be moving in slow motion at this instant.

Biting her lip...she decided to stand firm. The red eyes set on her for a moment...and then turned toward the group standing further away in the old lot.

They did this one more time.

She sucked in her breath quickly. _Iori...he...he..._

Iori uttered an inhuman laugh and ran straight ahead...and Athena still did not move.

The man at the end grinned as well...

...until he saw Iori run past Athena and straight toward him.

He had no time to even budge before Iori leapt at him with a kick; it was a little wild, given his state at the moment...but it was enough to tag him in the mouth with the edge of his boot, causing blood and teeth to fly out to the side as he stumbled. Lightning-quick, Iori grabbed him by the head, smashing his heel down onto his shin, shattering it.

He screamed in terror; the man was no longer in control of the situation. All that could go through his mind-besides blinding pain-was that Iori was supposed to first go after the girl while they escaped, and then having him run rampant afterward to do their work for them, hunting down those around South Town, before he was put out of their misery. He was told Iori lost all control in this state, and that Athena may not be able to render him unconscious in time or even have a blast big enough to stop him in that cursed state.

Iori snarled at him, his mad, cursed eyes seemingly glaring holes into his; he could almost _see_ the hatred...for a few moments, anyway. It was an intense, burning hatred _clearly_ directed at him for what he tried to do, and he was in too much pain to even attempt anything. The others were frozen in fear and were of no help.

Letting out a bone-chilling, primal yell-before the other men-who had backed off considerably now-could figure out what was going on, Iori's thumbs slid into his eyes.

One of the men actively ran off, utterly terrified. In the back, Athena could not see what was happening-Iori's back was to her-but she had an idea. She stepped back...though did not run.

Iori heard the man scream as he feebly struggled to escape his iron grip; he held him there a few moments, letting him know what he tried would not be forgiven. The terrifying grin on his face had twisted in rage...as he dug his fingers into the top of his skull.

Just like that, he pulled.

Everything flew apart as he dropped the sorry remains of the corpse, looking ahead at the rest of their 'elite', the same look of murder in his still-red eyes.

Athena shook her head. _He's...changed but...he's somewhat in control? Did I do this?_

_Did...he manage to keep control...?_

Dashing forward like lightning, Iori swung his arm so low his fingertips grazed the pavement, digging a few lines as he brought his arm up in an arc, eviscerating a man right in front of him in one go; the ruin that had once been a man fell to the ground with a _splat._

Jumping, he went overhead, his right leg striking behind him in one of his overhead attacks; feeling his boot connect with a man's head-and the subsequent snapping of his neck and smashing in of his skull due to his fevered, enhanced strength-he grinned and landed fairly deftly from it as the man dropped, his head at a sick angle and some more disagreeable material leaking from his head.

One of the cultists found it odd that he would use something of a tactic while he was berserk...as they were told he was supposed to be mindless.

It was then that it finally finished hitting them. It took them a few deaths, but it hit them; he was _just about_ in control right now, and at his full power. Before the man could shout, Iori grabbed his face in one of his big hands, squeezed, and flung him down on the other side like a rag doll, smashing his head open on the pavement.

At this, the rest of the cultists started to scatter, realizing that there was no way they could deal with this; Iori simply ran about, cutting them off...seemingly almost hunting them down, appearing out of nowhere to tear them to pieces; he landed on one from above, smashing him into the ground...cracking it beneath him and spraying blood an alarming distance away. Occasionally he would throw out a purple flame toward someone trying to run; they could not outrun this. He would finish them off as they burned.

His level of control was not...complete, but it was strong. He was completely given into bloodlust, killing his opponents even more sadistically than he would otherwise, when he mostly just aimed to quickly tear into them; but he was able to keep from attacking anything around. He knew where Athena was...and if anything, most of his burning rage right now came from the fact that they tried to turn him against her. Every time that thought entered his mind, he would do something particularly nasty to one of the men he caught.

During the carnage, Athena stepped back to the store, not wanting to see what he did...but she was...not as disturbed as she could be. She did not like this level of violence, or anything even _close_ to this...but her mind was elsewhere. She stayed alert for any reinforcements, but she guessed the situation would have caused any potential ones to run off.

When he had looked at her when he snapped...it was like he was signaling.

_He looked right at me. His eyes...were...but he recognized me. He was letting me know._

_He really does have control. At least some._

That alone was enough to get her to almost want to weep; though not in terror or sadness. He was still murderous in this form, no doubt; his laughter chilled her, and the occasional sound she would catch of him ripping into the men or breaking bone made her shiver...but they did not get him this time.

She had seen in the last tournament that he could occasionally tap into parts of it; just for a few moments. Mostly it was bursts of even more insane strength or a particularly brutal maneuver. But this time he seemed to be able to hold on a longer time. She would not want to see the condition of any of those men...but...

Waiting by the one abandoned building, she could see no one else inside; she thought perhaps checking out the restaurant would be prudent, but she almost didn't want to leave Iori alone...just in case. She thought that if things _did_ take a turn for the worst, one of her powerful stunning energy blasts would be enough to render him harmlessly unconscious where he would awaken later...calm.

 _Or as calm as he could ever be_.

She shivered at the echoing laugh she heard again; despite knowing what he could do, it was just strange for her to think that this was the same man she spent her time with. She knew everything he had done in the past, but she had never witnessed it, until the past couple of months.

Eventually, the frantic screams stopped...she assumed the cultists or cronies...whoever they were...were all dead. It was highly unlikely he had let any of them escape.

Eventually he came around, walking quickly toward her. He was spattered in blood, his hands completely covered up past his elbows, as if he had dipped his arms in red paint. His jeans were black so one couldn't see it on there in the dark in particular; his boots were black as well, but in the light she could see them completely glistening with red.

As he got closer, his eyes were still the bloody red color...and were highly unsettling to look into.

When he stood in front of her, she averted her eyes for a moment, listening to his heavy, ragged breaths. He sounded...bestial.

She looked back up as he reached his hand out, dripping. She didn't know why...but it may have been partially the stench of blood, his red eyes, or just everything that happened; but she flinched. It was slight, and seemingly just by reflex.

_Why...the first time, I didn't..._

_He wasn't...he was still..._

He stood there, staring at her, with his hand up. He slowly backed away, dropping his hand. His eyes drained of the cursed red color, soon returning to their light brown.

“Iori...” she said.

He stared a moment more before wiping his hands clumsily off on his jeans and fumbling a cigarette out of his pocket, stuffing it into his mouth. It was still smeared with blood...but he didn't even seem to notice.

He lit it. His expression was no longer full of rage.

It was mournful. Far more than that very first time years ago; and his aura, she could feel, had become overwhelmed with that familiar and palpable air of grief.

Without another word, he turned and walked away slowly; she saw his head fall. The only sound were his heavy footsteps.

“Iori!!” she yelled after him.

He never turned.

Athena watched him walk away for a few moments before absently wiping the tears from her face. 

She had flashes of that time a few years ago. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who haven't played 14 yet, in Iori's Climax, his eyes actually go red like he has a small measure of control over the Blood Riot now. I don't think it's totally full, can control at any time, but it was interesting to see!
> 
> I figured if there was one thing that could force him into some measure of small control...it would be to ensure he would not harm Athena.


	7. Chapter 7

The rain had started again this past week, after a couple of days of reprieve.

It had been roughly a week and a half since what felt like one of the more decisive blows they dealt to Those from the Past; no one had heard so much as a peep from them after that night. Those knocked out had been arrested, though seemingly had very little useful to say. The more important members had gone silent, perhaps licking their wounds. Rumors were abound that some disappeared from holding, but no one could confirm nor deny.

There were also some hushed, fearful reports about the shape of some of their assassins and lackeys, but anyone who knew who Iori and what had happened in previous tournaments managed to piece together what happened there.

They said nothing.

Iori now sat hunched over the noodles in front of him; he slurped some down, sipping the coffee the man had given him. He was at his favorite place; well, in so much as Iori _had_ a favorite place. 'Favorite Place' to Iori meant 'the one he liked slightly more than the others.'

Or, perhaps, 'the one he disliked less.' 

His raincoat was still on, as he often didn't bother taking his coat off at this place. It was completely empty this morning; not many people wanted to stop in for greasy ramen bowls at ten a.m., but Iori was in the mood. His sleep had been rough the past few nights again, though he wasn't sure why. He still had his cursed blood, though he felt like he had better control now of it than ever...he knew it wasn't perfect, and probably would never be; if anything, he had no idea what having Orochi back at even a third of his power would do to him, and he wasn't particularly keen to find out.

He figured he'd never be able to explain his restless nights fully. It didn't take much to set them off.

As he took another bite he heard the door creak open and the bells attached to it ring, followed by some light footsteps. As the person got closer, a familiar scent entered his nostrils as he breathed in, closing his eyes.

“You know...” he started. As usual, he had second thoughts about the call he made, thinking it was pointless.

“You hung up. I know,” Athena pushed her hood down, smiling sadly at him. It had only been about ten days, but given how they had separated, she wasn't sure what was going to happen. She hadn't heard anything from him, at all, that past week and a half. She didn't know if he was hurt, or if he just needed time...or if he had decided to just hide himself away. Or if he had snapped somewhere.

Or worse.

She tried to keep occupied with her training, some duties around the dojo, meeting with other people...and even booking a gig that she would have about two months from now. She didn't play live as much as she used to, but she would come out for one now and again.

It wasn't that long, and Athena wasn't the pining type...but she _was_ the worrying type, especially when it came to Iori these days. She had been concerned about him for years, and now that they had...something...for at least awhile, it only made it worse. Every day that passed her stomach would twist, and she would try to push out the most negative thoughts; the fact she was almost optimistic to a fault probably got her through those days fairly calm.

Taking off her raincoat, she walked over to him. His hand came up-which she did not flinch from-as he cradled the side of her head with it for a moment, his expression fairly neutral.

To her surprise, he pulled her into a fierce kiss; something similar to what he gave her the first night. Right in the place, he did not seem to care if anyone could see from the back or not. Much like that night, it had that almost desperate feel. She fell into it though, sliding her hand around to the back of his muscular neck as he raked his fingers down her back.

It broke after what felt to be a long time as he sat back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. She noticed the man in the back preparing something, glancing up at her as he did, nodding once.

Iori's hand had slid down her arm and took hers, his thumb running over her smooth skin.

“Did you order for me?”

He nodded.

“...I thought you hung up?” she smiled.

He gave a tiny shrug in response before turning and going back to his food in silence. The owner brought hers over and she took a bite, still wondering how a place that she thought may or may not pass an inspection depending on the day managed to get everything tasting so good.

Looking over at him, she gave him a knowing smile. “How have...you been holding up?”

He shrugged again. “Some trouble sleeping again. It's usual though. The bastards doing this have gone into hiding...but...” he sighed. “You know how it is.”

She nodded. “I'm...so sorry.” She still thought of that night, and how he had looked even more upset walking away than he did that time four years ago...and she couldn't remember how long it had been since she had felt like she had been punched in the gut.

He shook his head. “It was a bad night.”

She reached up and touched the side of his face. “No, it wasn't. Not for you.” Seeing him actually wrestle control for as long as he did gave her a renewed optimism about his entire situation.

He smiled slightly at that. “I don't know if...that was usual.”

“Maybe it can be.”

“Still idealistic.” He finished his noodles, sipped some coffee, and lit a cigarette. He leaned his chin in his hand on the counter, seemingly staring out into space.

She shrugged. “Someone has to be.”

Snorting in response, he blew out a thin stream of smoke as he turned his head to the side to look at her. He was silent for a few moments, his eyes focused on hers with an ever so slight melancholy expression. “I thought you were done with me.”

“Never,” Athena said, so quickly that she even surprised herself.

Iori was incredibly relieved to hear that, though he didn't particularly show it, as was usual for him. He turned the stool so he was facing her, sliding his boot over to rest on the rung of hers. “”What do you want?” he asked.

She thought, shrugging. “Can we just do what we've been doing?” Realizing she didn't want to come off as only wanting a...particular thing, she blushed. “I mean everything. Not just...” she sputtered, taking a sip of tea.

He chuckled, a wicked smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth for a second as he absently reached over to put his hand over hers for a moment. “Tell me before you come over.”

She smiled at him, having regained her composure. Looking him over, he looked weary. She realized that Iori generally only had a few overall looks; grumpy, angry, enraged, and weary being the usual. She noticed 'contentment' starting to appear now and again at his apartment...and she could see a hint of it in his eyes, but he still looked weary.

_Can you blame him? He fights with himself at least two thirds of his waking life._

He took his hand away, but kept looking at her. He actually missed her this week, and that night had hit him harder than anything in years...the last time he felt that way was back when their ki had intertwined all of those years ago and he had feared he had hurt her. When she flinched, it felt like someone had stabbed him; that had been one of the first times he had even felt that. Even back in his old disaster of a relationship, when that ended, it had been more of a tragic mess but he felt less wounded and more just overall enraged at the entire situation.

But given she hadn't hesitated when he was blood-soaked before...he wasn't sure what happened. No one did. Athena didn't even know why she had flinched.

She didn't see the expression on his face when he was hunting the men down, enraged. He knew he had been excessively brutal with the people...but he knew they tried to wake his Orochi blood up for the sole purpose of attacking her first before using him as a pawn, and that made him even more vindictive than he had been in ages. The little of his mind that he had managed to hold onto had _enjoyed_ ripping the men to pieces and smashing them.

“You're here for longer, right?” Iori shook out of his morbid train of thought.

“Actually...yeah. We'll be here indefinitely. I'll have to leave sometimes but...”

Iori actually grinned a moment. “Coming over today?”

“If you want me to.”

He nodded, his smile softening to a slight grin.“Yes.” He wanted to spend some time with her again, to do...well, other things again too, he couldn't lie to himself.

It was strange to him how he felt such a measure of relief that she didn't abandon him. He shouldn't have cared. But with his only company being the little cat the past few days, he started to feel a crushing loneliness that he hadn't felt in awhile. A long time, in fact...since he had been young.

He was still confused, to be sure, but he'd at least see where he could take this. If it became something, it did. If it stayed how it was, he would be okay with that as well; he didn't mind their little...friends-with-something-more that they had either.

Looking up at her again-he had spent a lot of time looking at the floor-he noticed her touching the pick around her neck. That made him smile ever so slightly. Iori typically didn't smile too often, unless he was fighting, and then it was not something one wanted to see.

As she ate her noodles, she noticed a set of keys on the counter; these were not his normal house keys which he always just kept in his pants pocket. “...What are those?”

“Car,” he said, blowing a bit of smoke out.

Athena blinked. “You...have a car?”

He nodded. “Just don't use it much. No need. The rain, though...” It had been harder and more miserable than in a long time. “Decided to dust it off and take it out.”

She laughed. “I'm surprised the rain wasn't too much before.”

“I hate traffic,” he snorted.

“I...should have guessed.” She could not imagine him being the most patient with bad drivers, leading him to choose to walk.

Going back to her food, she occasionally glanced at him; he was patiently waiting, sipping at another cup of coffee that had been brought out. Iori could be impatient when it came to some things, but when it came down to waiting for Athena, it didn't matter.

She finished quickly anyway, very curious to see the car he drove.

Having already paid, he stood and stretched before grabbing everything off of the counter. “Out back,” he said, heading out before her.

Chuckling-Iori was not exactly the gentleman who held open doors or waited-she grabbed her own coat, pulled up the hood and walked out, catching up to him quickly.

They reached the car; it was an older model manual four-seater, a little sportier than most, though the dark gray paint job was a bit dull and chipped, and it had definitely seen better days. Unlocking her side first-perhaps looking a touch sheepish that he often didn't act the gentleman-he let her in before he went around and climbed in himself.

Athena pushed the hood down, laughing to herself. It looked almost exactly as she pictured it. Wrappers, empty coffee cups, empty cigarette boxes, what seemed to be a small bass amp shoved on the back seat with some guts taken out, a button-down shirt that looked like it had been here awhile, and other odds and ends. The stereo looked fairly nice, as she also imagined, given his musical bent.

Iori adjusted himself, popping the car on to get the window down; she was surprised it had electric windows. He shoved a smoke into his mouth, leaning back in the seat a few moments to light it and relax. As he lay back on the seat, he turned his head to look at her.

“Sorry it's a mess,” he said, snorting laughter.

She laughed. “You know I don't care.” She was never meticulous; she was tidy, though didn't mind a bit of clutter, and after staying so much time at Iori's warehouse-like apartment she had started to grow more accustomed to it.

He put the cigarette down in the ashtray-he had emptied it recently, at least-and leaned in finally, seemingly wanting to kiss her again. She gladly obliged.

Iori's kiss was once again one of that rough sort of hunger that he would get; after the lone week and a half, and a long time to think, he missed her quite a bit. He could have moved on-and would have, if she had been too afraid to see him again, though he wouldn't have been happy. Still, he decided to try to call her...just in case.

He didn't know why, but he had a feeling she would respond.

Biting her lower lip again, he was getting quite hard with it this time, causing her to squeal...though not pull away. Neither cared they were in the car, as there was no one around anyway; his was the only one in the lot at the moment that was even in any sort of repair; there were one or two other stripped vehicles scattered around.

Pulling away, Iori shifted, already feeling himself get hard. Looking in the backseat, he regret there was just not a lot of room back there; the small amp and the other odds and ends just took up too much room, and given Iori had a tall, long-limbed frame, working in the front seats was out, too.

He grit his teeth, turning on the car the rest of the way.

Athena laughed; she was beginning to get fairly turned on as well, and could tell Iori's predicament at the moment. Patting his hand which rest on the stick shift, she grinned.

“We can wait until we get to your place.”

He nodded, smirking a moment as he stuck a cigarette into his mouth and lit it before pulling out.

Iori was a surprisingly good driver. While he did drive fast, he was not what she imagined many people would imagine him to be. South Town's streets-particularly around this area-were littered with potholes, trash, and puddles, though the ride wasn't terribly bumpy.

She simply leaned back in the seat, relaxing. The car did have a distinct smell of cigarettes...but it also smelled like him. She imagined he had slept in it a few times during his musical career.

Reaching his apartment quickly, he parked in one of the alleys nearby; he didn't seem concerned about it. It was nice to not have to walk in the rain for once.

Running inside, the apartment building had a more dank feel than usual.

“Leak somewhere”, he snorted. “Not on my floor.”

She chuckled; she was surprised the place even _had_ a landlord. She looked at him. “You ever consider moving?”

He shook his head. “I like the fact there aren't many people here.”

Athena should have known Iori would take isolation over comfort. Still, he seemed as content as he could ever be.

Pushing their way into his place, he slammed the window shut; the little cat was already curled up in the corner. He went to go scratch her behind the ears as he always would-if the cat came, he'd never ignore her-and flipped the air on before tossing his raincoat off to the side and lighting a cigarette. He looked at her as she settled on the couch, tucking her legs underneath of her. He walked over to her, smoking at the cigarette as he scratched his arm; today he wore a red tank top that went rather nicely with his hair, she noticed. He tugged at his collar.

“I...missed having you around,” he said, looking off to the side.

She smiled up at him as he stood over the couch, in his telltale hunched over position which he would often adopt, usually out of being rather antisocial, though he seemed like he was just a touch awkward right now.

Standing, she walked over to him, tracing her fingers down his chest, before she placed them under his chin to turn his head toward her as she looked up at him. His eyes eventually met hers after a few moments.

She felt that tinge of sadness when she noticed the mix of anger and loneliness there. Likely toward himself and his situation, as was usual.

Gently beckoning his head down, she kissed him lightly on the mouth; he returned it, keeping it surprisingly light at first, which was different for him, before he deepened it more to his usual rougher kiss. Iori held her up, as her legs stay around his waist. She was enjoying this fierce burst he had, after his more melancholy mood when they first met.

Athena could feel him moving quickly, and she didn't mind. After everything, they seemed to both just want to reassure each other silently that things were still at the point they were before. His hand reached down as he held her there, sliding over her rear, rubbing it for a moment. He drew her lower lip into his mouth, his kisses growing far more intense.

He set her on the bed as he took his boots and shirt off, not bothering with his pants at the moment. Pushing her down as he continued to roughly kiss her-biting at her lower lip as he did so, he slid her shorts and underwear off rather quickly, not seemingly bothering with her shirt. She gasped when his hand went down between her legs to tease her a few moments; needless to say, she was already wet. He kept his fingers there, sliding them up, down and around; Athena moaned, squirming at his touch.

Breaking the almost violent kiss, Iori got a rather evil grin on his face. He lay down on the bed, starting to pull her waist up toward his head.

“Here,” he said, breathing heavily. He was clearly guiding her to sit on his face; he had wanted to try this now for awhile and they had never gotten around to it.

Athena giggled, shivering; she obliged him, curious to know how this would feel and almost surprised he went this fast, though she was very receptive. She quickly got her answer when she felt him position her and open his mouth; it gave him access that he didn't even get with the sixty-nine that they had done before.

Shivering and moaning loudly, she wondered if she would even be able to stay up as she felt his tongue begin to roughly stroke her. She had to place her hands against the wall that the bed was set up against, else she feared that she would end up falling over.

This felt _incredibly_ good. Iori going down on her had always felt good, but this position was a new feeling and she could not stay quiet this time. Luckily, she knew that people in Iori's apartment were few and far between; the tenants were sparse and scattered.

She wasn't quite _that_ loud, but she thought she was, given her brain wasn't all there at this moment.

Iori positioned his hands around her waist so he could lift her slightly up and down-to control just how much she was getting to add to the teasing. Rubbing his tongue hard against her for a few moments, he picked her up slightly to nip at her like he did the last time...which, given her squeals, still felt just as good. Swirling his tongue around, he started to work toward getting her off at least once with this.

Athena looked down a moment, seeing his eyes closed; she ran a hand through his hair as he started to use his teeth again, very lightly. She shivered again, and he raked the nails of one hand down her side a little more.

Having actively missed her-he realized it after a time that over these past couple of months he had often missed her when she was gone, but he was loathe to admit it to himself-he wanted to work to please her. He knew he wasn't going to be able to give her what she wanted totally, but he thought he could at least make sure she was kept happy in _some_ ways, even if they were mostly physical. 

Teasing her a little by holding her up, he swallowed some of her fluids and finally sucked at her clit to get her off; he knew by the way she was shaking and by her moans it wouldn't take her long now.

The way he was holding her up, she couldn't quite thrust herself against him, leaving everything up to his mercy; this, in a way, drove her a little more nuts. Her eyes closed and her head back, she trembled as she felt him nip at her, continuing on with everything until she came with a long, soft moan.

He set her down at that so he could drink her in, moaning low in his throat himself. He stayed a short while, teasing her a little more, until he felt her start to groan from the sensitivity. He set her on the bed after, sitting cross-legged next to her.

Athena stared at the ceiling, occasionally shivering. That had felt _astoundingly_ good. She was as soaked as anything right now; as she looked over at Iori, he was licking his lips. She always giggled at this. He looked over at her as he would; his elbows were set on his knees as he sat there. She reached over to touch his shoulder.

“That was...” she laughed, blushing slightly. 

He leaned over to kiss her stomach, raking his nails up her thighs. “Yeah,” he said, fairly quiet. He smiled at her, though; the small one he would get, as he found it sort of amusing she would still blush even after all they did. He reached down to undo his jeans; Athena noticed how he grit his teeth. He was extremely hard at the moment. He was afraid once again he would be fairly quick, though given he knew how to get her off rather hard with his mouth he wasn't too bothered anymore.

Taking a few moments to slide down, she gently teased the the head with her tongue; she planned on just giving him a few moments before sex.

Iori leaned back on the bed, a quiet moan coming from his throat as he exhaled heavily. She knew how to tease him well, and he loved it. He had to concentrate hard, though, to keep himself from going off too early, it felt so good. He slid his hand into her hair, rubbing the back of her head as he felt her sucking lightly at him, one of her hands rubbing his stomach.

After a few moments-she could taste quite a bit of the liquid on her tongue already-he fumbled a hand over to his nightstand as he pulled out a package; he smirked as she sat up, as now he wouldn't have to pull out of her.

Getting himself ready, he sat up slightly and pulled her on top of him, choosing to go on the bottom this time. She settled over onto him, leaning over to instigate a kiss; he returned it, a little slower than his normal ones, though it did eventually deepen into his usual rougher type.

Thrusting hard, he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth; he figured he'd be pretty fast with this, but her flush told him he had gotten her off more than adequately already.

He managed to hold back for a short bit, though; he was glad to enjoy the feeling for a little longer before he felt his orgasm build and finally spill over. Snarling, he through his head back, coming hard. For a split moment he was thankful again that he didn't have to pull out this time, as it felt damned nice to be able to finish off inside of her.

As he calmed, he looked up at her through his slightly sweaty hair. Despite the air being on, their endeavors left him rather worked up. His expression was somewhat...serene. Not completely, but serene enough. He reached a hand up, gently tracing a thumb over her mouth before leaning back as she slid off of him, sitting there on the bed next to him, her legs tucked behind her.

He sat up himself to clean up slightly, grabbing a cigarette off of the nightstand almost immediately after to light it. He looked over at her through his bangs, unable to hold back his little smile.

Athena laughed, pushing back some of his slightly sweaty hair. “You seem...calmer,” she said, clearly pleased.

He shrugged. “I feel like I am.” He didn't feel like he wanted to completely let his guard down-he probably never would-but he did feel a little calmer.

They sat in some moments of silence, though it felt natural. Very little felt 'forced' anymore, even if Iori remained extremely guarded.

Finishing his cigarette, he wanted a shower. He found he was able to wind down and collect his thoughts after a long one. 

Standing, he turned to walk off...before turning back to run his big hand down the side of her face, touching her gently under the chin, as if to reassure her he was trying.

–

Athena had stayed most of the day. They hadn't said much; a bit of discussion, but that was it. Most of the time Athena had gone back to a few of the books that interested her, while Iori sat on his couch, his leg up on the table in front of him, smoking and watching the rain fall. The cat had curled up next to him, still fairly content in her new semi-home.

He looked over at her, debating fiddling with his bass for a while. “You have a show soon?” he asked.

“Sort of. In a couple of months. But Chin seems fairly content to be around here for some time. I think he likes visiting the other old masters,” she chuckled.

“How is your...friend going to take this if he found out?”

Athena rolled her eyes, though was smiling. “He's been my great friend for years. That's all he is. I think he'll accept it one day.”

“I...for your sake, I'd probably keep this...quiet,” he said. He knew how many people feared him, and he didn't want that to spill over to her. He thought for another moment. “I think Yuri had an idea...”

She giggled. “She's sharp. I can't say the same for Robert.”

Iori fiddled with the cup of red wine in front of him as he took another drag of his smoke. “Stay tonight if you want.” He thought for a moment. “I...still don't know what I need.”

“Take your time.” She kissed him lightly on the mouth, which he returned. 

He smirked, looking back out the window. “Thanks.”

Over the weeks she had gotten to know him-more and more closely-she noticed a sort of...awkwardness that she didn't before. It was something that one had to be around him for awhile to really see. He was definitely one who was not the most socially acclimated, as usually he would just snarl people away from him.

But she understood why after this time; she understood, and she accepted it.

“You want to grab something?” he asked suddenly. 

“Food?”

“Was thinking that. I'll drive.” He stuffed out his cigarette and threw on the rest of his clothes, topping it with the long, black coat she had grown accustomed to. She got dressed herself, fingering the necklace he had given her. She found herself doing that sort of absently from time to time.

He closed the door behind them and they made their way through the dim, musty hallway of his building, heading down the creaky stairs. Only a couple of lights managed to stay lit, though there was enough to see by.

Iori lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke; Athena then felt his large hand fumbling around hers to try to take it. Glancing up at him-a small, almost sad smile on her face, she turned her hand to take it, giving it a squeeze, finding his rougher grip comforting and the fact that despite his expression not changing, he made yet another attempt at reaching out to her as they walked through his building. He said nothing as his fingers interlocked with hers.

As he looked ahead, though, he smirked...and she caught it.

It was enough for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that about closes this one out. I wanted to try to form a story on how I could picture these two working. I hope I was somewhat successful with it! 
> 
> Getting their characterization down was important to me. I don't see Iori as a soft type...though I can maybe, given he has had feelings for people before, having them in his own way, even if he keeps himself distant. He definitely has feelings for Athena by the end of this. 
> 
> I do plan on revisiting these two again for sure! Maybe I'll use this story as a cornerstone for a series of Iori/Athena South Town based KoF stories. I sort of like the run-down feel of South Town for an environment. 
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading! Again, hope you enjoyed it. I appreciate all of you who read my stuff!

**Author's Note:**

> Iori is a difficult character to write. He's always been, to me, a creature of id, and with a lot of semi-canon side material that gives different insight into his personality, I utilize those, along with his in-game actions and win-quotes, and this is what I came up with. A n 'always enraged' being with two sides to him, insane willpower to keep his bloodthirst at least partially under control at the times he needs, and someone who is definitely cursed, wishing to withdraw because he does still have a sympathetic side hiding, as one can see in certain win quotes.
> 
> This story does use the KoF Kyo manga as well, when he and Athena's spirits sort of 'entwined.' This shows in the games as he is simply grumpy toward Athena, rather than murderous, and there is even official art who sort of teases them. I figure if they(SNK themselves) seem to use it, it's good to use. The bit about the training by plunging their hands into stone was in...something that I read ages ago, not fan written either, and it stuck, and seemed to me to be a good explanation, along with his bloodline, for Yagami's ridiculous strength and the Yagami clan fighting style. (The belt thing I've read both ways-that it is a training thing, and that it is a fashion thing. I use it as all of the above.)
> 
> This is a pretty dark fanfiction; not a 'darkfic' so to speak, but yeah, it is going to be dealing with the mind of someone whose favorite phrases include 'Cry, Scream, and Die', whose win quotes include discussing how one's gory death will drench everything in red, whose fighting style involves rending people to bits and who has canonically killed an untold amount of people while still being on the 'protagonist' side. So those squeamish, just know what we're getting into. I hope you enjoy it though!


End file.
